Desperate Measures PLEASE SEE SUMMARY
by Mia Cooper
Summary: They're home… but it's not what they hoped for. Estranged by circumstance and misunderstanding and kept apart by devious design, Voyager's former command team is drawn into a world of danger, deception and political intrigue that could end up costing their lives. *A work in progress* [J/C, C/7, J/m, K/7] **NOTE: PLEASE READ MY PROFILE**
1. Prologue: Homecoming

Hold your breath and count to ten.

Fall apart, start again.

– Placebo, _English Summer Rain_

===0===

 _ **Prologue: Homecoming**_

 _December_ , _2377_

They'd burst into the Alpha quadrant two hours earlier and were just entering the Sol system, having been officially cleared by Admiral Paris. Kathryn was in her ready room; he was sure she was frantically collating reports, ready for the debriefings they assumed would be starting once the crew had been welcomed back into the bosom of their families. Chakotay pressed the chime and waited for her distracted reply to enter.

"Commander," she greeted him absently, shuffling through padds on her desk. "Have you seen the latest crew evaluation report? I could swear I left it right here."

He shook his head, laughing. "Kathryn, leave it. There'll be plenty of time to worry about reports." He moved up close, placing a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him, stilling her movements. "We're home," he said, smiling down at her. "I'm sure you can spare a few minutes to enjoy it."

To his surprise, the corners of her mouth barely turned upward. She seemed to be searching his face for something; he wasn't sure what. But he had almost seven years' worth of practice at handling Kathryn, at getting her to open up. Run at her head-on and she'd retreat. She needed to be cajoled.

"Have you met the baby yet?"

"No," and another expression flitted over her face and was gone. "No, I haven't. I'm sure Tom and B'Elanna would like some time alone with her."

"They'd love you to meet her. Come with me," he entreated. His hand slid down from her shoulder, catching hers.

He felt the moment she tensed, and her hand pulled out of his grasp. "It'll have to wait. Pass on my best wishes, will you?"

To hell with cajolery. "Kathryn, what's wrong?"

"I'm extremely busy," she said tightly, turning her back on him. "Why don't you take Seven?"

Chakotay's stomach tightened. "You know," he stated, though he couldn't imagine now how he'd ever thought it would stay a secret.

"Of course." Her voice was light now, breezy, but she still wasn't facing him. "Congratulations. I'm sure the two of you will be very happy."

He couldn't seem to find words.

"I imagine you two will want to visit Trebus as soon as debriefings are over. Maybe even settle there – I know how keen you are to see how the rebuilding is coming along. You will keep in touch, won't you?"

 _Keep in touch_? Chakotay wanted to be sick.

"What are your plans?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"A long vacation in Indiana with my family. After that, who knows? Wherever Starfleet sends me, I suppose."

"What about us?"

"The Maquis? I'm sure Starfleet will welcome you with open arms as soon as they've read the crew evals. If I can ever find the damn things, that is."

"I wasn't talking about the Maquis," he said quietly.

"Hmm? Ah!" Kathryn turned finally, giving him a brief smile as she held up a padd. "Found it. Excuse me, I need to have Harry send this to HQ."

She strode quickly for the door.

She was just going to leave, he realised. They'd part as soon as _Voyager_ reached Earth, and he might never see her again.

And she seemed to want it that way.

" _Kathryn_."

She stopped, turned back to him, her eyebrows raised. "Commander?"

He calmed his voice with effort. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Seven. It's just – new, and we didn't want to ... And you and I …"

"You and I what?" she asked, but there was a warning in her tone.

Chakotay waved a hand in frustration. "Are you really going to stand there and pretend there's nothing between us? That there couldn't have been something incredible?"

She said nothing.

"I always hoped that when we got home," he walked slowly toward her, "we'd get the chance to –"

"Stop," she said abruptly, holding up a hand to ward him off. "Commander, this isn't the time or the place for this discussion."

"When is it the time, then?" He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "You've been dancing around this for seven years, Kathryn!"

"Then it's a good thing we can get some distance from each other now," she fired back. "It'll help you regain a little perspective. I'm sure I'll see you again once you've spent some time with your sister and – and Seven."

She turned her back on him and moved quickly toward the door, leaving him almost too stunned to speak. Almost.

"Well, don't be a stranger," he called after her, bitterness lacing his tone.

 _Too late for that_ , he thought.

She stopped again, turned, frozen-faced. "Is there something else you want to say to me, Commander?"

Chakotay studied her: steel-grey eyes, firm mouth, straight shoulders. There was no trace of Kathryn, his friend, his once-might-have-been. Only the captain.

"No," he said slowly. "Nothing at all."

She turned and left without another word.


	2. Coercion

Resentment rides high,

But emotions won't grow

And we're changing our ways

Taking different roads.

– Joy Division, _Love Will Tear Us Apart_

===0===

 _ **Coercion**_

 _February, 2378_

"You're _blackmailing_ me?"

If she'd spent the past seven years in the Delta quadrant serving under the auburn-haired captain with the laser-sharp eyes, Fleet Admiral Nyla Kjogo might have taken heed of the steely undertone in Kathryn Janeway's voice. As she hadn't – and as she considered herself impervious to intimidation, having been hailed as a several-time hero of the Dominion War – she ignored it.

"It's not blackmail, Captain. It's a promotion. And I suggest you accept it with a great deal more graciousness than you've displayed to date."

Kathryn planted her hands on her hips, staring down at the tall, voluptuous Tandaran seated behind her equally imposing desk. "It's not just a promotion, Admiral. You want me to sell my soul to Starfleet's PR machine."

"Must you reduce this to basics? We're offering you the opportunity of a lifetime, Kathryn. Why choose to see it as some kind of underhanded deal?"

"For the past two months," Kathryn answered slowly, her voice dangerously low, "you have kept me confined to this building, refused to allow me contact with my crew, grudgingly allowed me rare and brief visits from my family, and questioned me to the point of interrogation. And now you inform me that I'm being cleared of all possible charges and promoted to the admiralty, but only if I'll agree to be Starfleet's poster girl. If that isn't underhanded, Admiral, what would _you_ call it?"

"I'd call it a win-win situation. After all, Kathryn, in your new role you'll have fame, freedom and the ability to influence billions of people. Including the judiciary in charge of hearings for the more … _problematic_ members of your former crew."

Kathryn went still. "Meaning?"

"Maquis terrorists, liberated Borg drones, an ex-convict, a hologram with delusions of sentience, and a handful of genocidal Starfleet traitors. You really brought home a passel of problem children, didn't you, Kathryn? And while I'm sure they all became upstanding members of your crew out in the wilds of the Delta quadrant, things are a little different here. Just how well do you think the average Federation citizen in these post-war, post-Changeling times will take to those who are a little bit different?"

Kathryn folded her arms and stared at her.

"Of course," Kjogo went on calmly, "if they had a spokesperson – a sponsor, of sorts – to look out for their best interests, I'm sure acceptance would come a lot more easily. And what better champion than their heroic former captain and the jewel in Starfleet's public relations crown?" She watched the younger woman for a moment. "On the other hand, a maverick captain who's spent seven years marching to the beat of her own drum and making her own, often questionable, decisions … well, _she_ wouldn't do them much good at all."

"I see," Kathryn said evenly. "Are Admirals Paris and Hayes aware of these terms?"

"Admiral Paris has expressed his desire to see his son and daughter-in-law excused from any possible criminal or military prosecution. Admiral Hayes has recently been appointed head of the Strategic Command Division and is currently engaged with the Tholian problem." Kjogo folded her hands on the desk before her. "Your promotion – and its terms – have been sanctioned by both Commander-in-Chief Shanthi and President Zife, Captain. You would be wise to accept."

Kathryn studied her. Fleet Admiral Nyla Kjogo was an unknown quantity, but as the chief of the Office of Starfleet Communications, and now that debriefings had finally finished, the Tandaran woman was firmly in charge of the public reintroduction of _Voyager_ 's crew to Federation society. Kathryn could understand why the admiral wanted to put the most positive spin possible on _Voyager_ 's return.

What she couldn't understand was why that meant serving her up to the media on a platter; something that was apparently important enough not only to Admiral Kjogo, but to Starfleet's Commander-in-Chief and the Federation President, that they had seen fit to resort to blackmail. And despite Kjogo's demurrals, blackmail was exactly what this was.

But Kathryn had some terms of her own.

"If the Starfleet Judiciary sees fit to prosecute the former Maquis on my crew for actions they took prior to our being stranded halfway across the galaxy, rest assured that I will employ every tactic at my disposal – including garnering pubic support – to ensure they never serve a day in prison. Lieutenant Paris has also more than served his original sentence and should be immediately pardoned, reinstated and promoted."

Kjogo raised an eyebrow.

"Seven of Nine cannot possibly be held responsible for acts she effected while part of the Borg Collective. Since her emancipation she has repeatedly proven herself invaluable to my crew and has saved the ship and all our lives on numerous occasions. As for Icheb, he was freed from assimilation shortly after emerging from a maturation chamber. He is a fine, intelligent young man whom I've sponsored for entry to Starfleet Academy."

Kjogo leaned back in her chair.

"The Doctor," Kathryn continued, "has evolved over his seven years of active service, and I consider him not only the finest physician I've ever known, but a close friend. Should he be required to prove his sentient status in a Federation court, I would be the first to offer testimony on his behalf."

Kjogo tapped her fingers on her armrest.

"As for the _Equinox_ crew," Kathryn took in a breath, knowing this was the most difficult case to sell, "you cannot have any idea what it was like to be stranded so far from home with very little hope of ever getting back. Those five crewmen were led by a captain who had abandoned his principles. I don't condone what they did – as you'd be aware from my logs, they were stripped of their ranks when they joined _Voyager_ – but they've been punished enough. They should be allowed to continue serving in Starfleet with the opportunity to rejoin the officers' ranks."

At that, Kjogo leaned forward. "Are you quite finished, Captain?"

"For now."

"Then let me explain what will happen next. Your Maquis, including Tom Paris, will be pardoned and allowed to retain their commissions, and those you recommend for promotion will receive it. The female Borg will be engaged as a civilian consultant to whichever branch of the Sciences Division she prefers. The male Borg will enrol in Starfleet Academy. The Emergency Medical Hologram will be granted sentient status and allowed to keep his portable holoemitter on the proviso that he remain in Starfleet service and allow our scientists to study the emitter. The _Equinox_ crew will be honourably discharged." She held up a hand as Kathryn started to protest. "That's the best I can do, Kathryn. As for you, I'll expect you at Cochrane Hall at 1800 hours for your promotion ceremony, wearing a dress uniform and a smile."

"Admiral –"

"You have your orders, Captain. Don't make me rescind them. You won't like the results."

Deciding on a change of tactic, Kathryn eased into the seat opposite Kjogo's desk and softened her voice. "Admiral, I'm fully prepared to offer Starfleet-approved statements to the media about _Voyager_ 's journey, and to pose for the occasional PR photo. But we've been away from home for seven years, and I assure you that those seven years were no picnic. Surely you can understand that my crew and I would like to spend some time with friends and family before returning to active service?"

"Of course. Which is why I've arranged for three days' rest and recuperation before your first public appearance. I suggest you use some of that time to update your hairstyle and wardrobe."

It was rare for Kathryn Janeway to find herself speechless.

Kjogo handed her a padd. "This details your schedule for the next two weeks. I've taken the liberty of arranging a small staff for you, including stylist, masseuse, make-up artist, personal security and executive aide." She looked Kathryn over with a critical eye and took the padd back. "And I'm adding a personal trainer. You'll need to shed a couple of kilograms – the camera is unforgiving, you know. Now," Kjogo stood, holding out the padd, "do we have an agreement?"

Outmanoeuvred and out of options, Kathryn placed her thumbprint on the padd.

===0===

"What are we all doing in here?" Harry Kim asked apprehensively as _Voyager_ 's crew were ushered into the large auditorium.

"No idea," muttered Tom Paris, holding his tiny, grumbling daughter close, "but they'd better make it snappy. Miral's due for a feed in the next few minutes, and nobody gets between a Klingon and her dinner."

"Hand her over." B'Elanna Torres slipped into the next seat and held out her arms for Tom to place their daughter carefully into them. She fumbled awkwardly with the fastenings of her jacket. "Anybody know why we were told to wear these damn dress uniforms? They're not made for breastfeeding mothers, I can tell you that much."

Harry pointed to the doors. "Looks like we're about to find out what's going on."

A pair of security officers entered the room, followed by a tall, olive-skinned Tandaran woman wearing fleet admiral insignia. She strode to the low dais at the front of the room and held up her hands for silence. The murmur of conversation died down.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am Fleet Admiral Nyla Kjogo of the Office of Communications. I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here, so let me enlighten you. As of this moment, you are all free to leave this facility."

The murmurs started up again, and Kjogo raised her hand.

"I'm sure you have many questions, and my aides and I will endeavour to answer them, but please hold them until I've finished. You've been held here these past weeks partly as a quarantine measure and partly to ensure Starfleet Command had a complete understanding of the details of your mission in the Delta quadrant, particularly any contentious matters, prior to releasing information to the general public. I thank you all for your patience and apologise that your contact with your friends and families has been limited, but it was a necessary security measure."

The _Voyager_ crew remained silent, waiting.

"With regard to your status," the admiral continued, "those of you whom Captain Janeway granted field commissions will retain them, and Starfleet welcomes you into its ranks. I'm also authorised to offer positions within Starfleet to your civilian crewmembers, but these will be discussed in private with the individuals concerned."

Tom Paris had been glancing around the auditorium, and at Kjogo's words he nudged Harry. "Where are Gilmore and Lessing and the others?"

Harry frowned. "I don't see them."

"Finally," Admiral Kjogo concluded smoothly, "allow me to extend our official welcome home. If there are no questions, I'd like to invite you to attend a ceremony in Cochrane Hall in thirty minutes."

She stepped back and began moving toward the door.

"Excuse me, Admiral."

A flash of irritation crossed Kjogo's patrician face as she turned back to Tom, who'd risen from his seat. "Yes?"

"Lieutenant Tom Paris, sir. We seem to be missing five of our number. May I enquire as to their whereabouts?"

"I assume you're referring to the crewmen your captain retrieved from the USS _Equinox_. They have been excused from service and escorted to their places of residence. Now, if there's nothing else?" She barely paused. "Good. Then I'll expect to see you all in half an hour."

The door clicked shut behind Kjogo and her lieutenants.

"What the hell?" B'Elanna demanded as she stood, holding Miral close. "They interrogate us for two months with no explanation, barely let us contact anyone from the outside world, refuse to let us see the captain, and now we're just … free to go?"

"Not exactly the homecoming any of us expected." Harry was scowling. "I wonder if Tuvok knows anything. He's the only one who's been allowed to leave until now."

"They shipped him straight off to Vulcan, and nobody's heard from him since," Tom pointed out. "I'm more worried about the captain. Even Chakotay hasn't been allowed to see her."

B'Elanna snorted. "Maybe she just didn't _want_ to see him."

"B'Elanna," sighed Tom. They'd been through this.

"Speak of the _petaQ_ ," B'Elanna growled, turning away as the first officer made his way through the milling crew toward them. "And his _chaj_ ," she added, spotting Seven of Nine's perfect blonde chignon in Chakotay's wake.

"Be nice, honey," Tom muttered under his breath.

"Commander," Harry called as Chakotay and Seven approached. "Any idea what's going on, sir?"

"Not yet, but I intend to find out." Chakotay rested a hand on his shoulder. "Tom, B'Elanna."

B'Elanna ignored him.

"I guess we're not the only ones thinking our sudden freedom seems too good to be true," Tom remarked hastily to divert attention from his wife's lack of response. "And what's this ceremony that admiral mentioned? Our welcome-home party?"

"Doubtful," Seven interjected. "According to my studies of the Federation database, Cochrane Hall has traditionally been reserved for military ceremonies. It is unlikely to be the site of such an informal occasion."

"Well, the last military ceremony I attended as a guest of honour was a court-martial," Tom quipped. "So let's hope that's not what we're in for."

"If anyone could manage to go from a full pardon to a court-martial in less than an hour, it'd be you," Chakotay smirked.

"Have you seen the captain yet, sir?" Harry asked anxiously.

All trace of good humour washed from Chakotay's face. "Not since we disembarked." _Before then, actually_ , he amended silently. And it hadn't exactly been the conversation such a joyous occasion should have warranted.

He found himself resting his palm on Seven's waist. B'Elanna growled under her breath and stalked away.

"Don't mind her," Tom said, deliberately averting his gaze. "She's just … concerned for the captain."

"As are we," Seven interjected.

Tom and Harry exchanged a glance that made Seven's eyebrow rise and Chakotay's back stiffen. "Do you two have something to say to us?" he asked pointedly.

"No, sir," Tom answered smartly. "We have nothing to say to you. Sir."

"You disapprove of our romantic relationship," Seven deduced. "Clearly, so does Lieutenant Torres."

Harry scratched nervously at the back of his neck. "It's none of our business, Seven."

"You're right, Harry." The first officer's voice was low and dangerous. "It _is_ none of your business. But if anyone thinks they should have an opinion on the matter, they should feel free to bring it to me first."

"Understood, sir," Tom drawled. "Excuse me. I need to go find my wife."

Harry flicked a sheepish glance over his shoulder as he trailed after his friend.

===0===

"Captain! Over here! Captain Janeway!"

Kathryn turned obligingly in the direction of the voice, smile fixed on her face. Lights flashed, blinding her.

An audio-recorder was thrust under her nose. "Captain, how does it feel to be home after so many years?"

"Wonderful," she answered. "I'm thrilled to –"

"And your crew – how are they settling in?" another reporter called.

"They're doing fine." She'd kill to actually know that for sure. "They're an exemplary cr–"

"What's going to happen to _Voyager_ now that you're home?"

"I've been told she's undergoing a refit. I'm sure Starfleet will find an appropriate mission –"

"What are you going to do next?" asked an excited young Trill, shoving her recorder in Kathryn's face.

"All right, people, that's enough for today." Lieutenant Tora Jens, the young, dark-haired aide who'd been assigned to Kathryn barely three hours earlier, stepped politely in front of the still-flashing cameras. "You wouldn't want Captain Janeway to be late for her own promotion ceremony, would you?"

The reporters laughed good-naturedly as Jens took Kathryn's elbow and steered her up the steps and into Cochrane Hall.

"Thanks," Kathryn murmured. "I wasn't expecting any press tonight. How did they know where I'd be?"

Jens smiled. "Admiral Kjogo knows how to make the most of a PR opportunity. You'd better get used to it, Captain – or should I say, Admiral? You're big news."

"Are they always so eager? I couldn't finish a sentence out there."

"You're a good-news story, ma'am," Jens replied. "You make a nice change from reporting on post-war devastation in the Demilitarised Zone or the rise of piracy in the Borderlands."

She beckoned to the stylist hovering anxiously a couple of metres away, and the young man scurried up in relief, immediately pulling out a comb and attacking Kathryn's slightly-mussed bob.

Kathryn tried not to flinch at either the comb or the _ma'am_. "Piracy?" she asked Jens.

"Well, with Starfleet ranks so thinned out from the war, we haven't had the manpower to keep the Orion Syndicate or the Ferengi traders contained to their usual routes, and some of the unallied trade worlds have also taken the opportunity to expand their influence. But I'm sure you'll be fully briefed on all that and more in the coming weeks." The young woman waved the stylist away. "We'd better go or you really will be late."

The imposing double doors of the reception hall swung slowly open, and as Kathryn stepped inside, a sea of Starfleet dress uniforms swivelled in her direction, conversations breaking off into applause. She paused briefly to paste the expected smile on her face as she climbed the short flight of stairs to the stage. Three admirals – Kjogo, Starfleet's Commander-in-Chief, Taela Shanti, and a Coridanite man Kathryn recognised as Ube Mekas, the Starfleet liaison to the Office of the President – stood waiting for her, clapping and smiling.

 _I'm home_ , she told herself. _The crew is safe. I'm about to become an admiral. This is everything I've ever wanted_.

So why did she feel like turning tail and heading straight back to the Delta quadrant?

===0===

"It's the captain," Harry exclaimed, elbowing Tom in the side.

"Ow. Where?" Tom raised himself on his toes, peering over the sea of mostly-grizzled heads toward the doors.

Harry pointed to the stage. "I guess _she's_ the guest of honour."

Admiral Shanthi waited patiently for an ensign to finish adjusting the microphone, then stepped forward, holding up her hands for silence. The applause died down instantly.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began. "As you all know, eight weeks ago a miraculous event occurred: the return of the USS _Voyager_ from the Delta quadrant. Many of us here tonight believed this would never happen in our lifetimes, with the obvious exception of our Vulcan members, of course." Shanthi paused for the expected gentle hum of laughter. "And yet, this intrepid ship and her crew were led home in one tenth of the time it should have taken them, thanks to their valiant captain, Kathryn Janeway."

She stepped back a pace and held out her arm, indicating Kathryn should move forward.

"Is it my imagination, or is the captain not particularly happy about this?" Harry muttered to Tom.

Tom studied her rigid posture, her stony-grey eyes, the captain's mask he knew so well. "It's not your imagination, Harry."

"– bravery, and your exemplary service to Starfleet," Shanthi was saying, "I'm honoured to promote you to the rank of Rear Admiral. Congratulations, Admiral Janeway."

The room erupted in applause as Shanthi pinned the rank bar to Kathryn's collar. The fleet admiral stepped back, clapping, and nodded to the microphone.

Reluctantly, Kathryn stepped forward.

"Thank you," she began stiltedly as the applause filtered away. "Thank you, Admiral. I'll do my best to live up to the responsibility you've seen fit to give me. I'm delighted to be home –"

"If she's delighted," Tom muttered to Harry, "I'm an Orion slave girl."

"Shh," B'Elanna hissed on his other side.

"– never have made it without the most exemplary crew any captain could hope to serve with, and if any honours should be bestowed tonight, they should be the ones to receive them."

Harry watched as the newly-minted admiral's eyes searched the room. He saw the moment Janeway caught sight of him and the bright, unfettered smile that spread across her face.

"In fact," she went on, her voice lightening, "I see that my crew is in attendance tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in showing your appreciation for the fine men and women who brought _Voyager_ home." She began clapping with enthusiasm, stepping back from the microphone as others around the room applauded more hesitantly.

Kjogo glided past her, appropriating the room's attention. "Yes, congratulations to Admiral Janeway and of course the crew of _Voyager_. Ladies and gentlemen, canapés will be served shortly, so please feel free to stay for a while. Admiral Janeway will also be making the rounds of the room for those of you looking forward to hearing her tales of life in the Delta quadrant."

Harry saw his former captain stiffen slightly and shoot Kjogo a smile laced with venom. "Guess nobody thought to clear that little plan with the captain," he murmured to Tom.

"Kjogo's a brave woman," Tom snickered back. "I'm not sure if we should be rescuing her or Janeway."

===0===

She felt like she was wading through molasses.

Every time Kathryn spotted a member of her crew and tried to extricate herself from whatever polite, repetitive conversation she'd been dragged into, Lieutenant Jens appeared at her side towing yet another admiral, politician or self-important person she was obliged to make nice with. The hall was stuffy and sour with the smell of too many portly bodies, and her throat was dust-dry from far too much talking to people she didn't know and couldn't care less about. After close to an hour of it, Kathryn was ready to scream.

"Excuse me," she said abruptly to the silver-haired, pontificating admiral she was currently corralled with. Handing Jens her warm, half-full glass of champagne, Kathryn pushed her way through the crowd, seeking friendly faces or solitude, whichever came first.

"Captain Janeway!" she heard. Flinching, she ducked away, then realised the voice had been a familiar one. She turned.

"Ensign Kim," she said, relieved.

"Cap- uh, Admiral," he stammered. "Congratulations on your promotion, ma'am. It's so good to see you. We've all been worried. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Harry." She squeezed his shoulder. "How is everyone?"

"Fine, we're all fine." He leaned in closer. "Admiral, we haven't seen you in almost two months. What's going on? Why were they keeping you away from us?"

"Not here," she murmured.

Harry nodded. "Tom and B'Elanna are out on the balcony. Miral was getting a little fussy."

Kathryn's face lit up. "Then it's time I saw my goddaughter, don't you think?"

"Most of the rest of the crew have already left," Harry told her quietly as they weaved through the crowd. "Everyone's eager to see their families, of course, but they'd have stayed if they could. It's been made pretty clear that we're not really welcome here."

"Is that so?" she asked grimly, pushing open the balcony door.

"Captain." Tom Paris rushed over to her, taking her hands. "Thank God. We've all been so worried about you."

Kathryn squeezed his hands. "As you can see, I'm fine, Mr Paris. Now where is that beautiful daughter of yours?"

B'Elanna moved over, cradling the sleeping bundle in her arms. "She finally dropped off. Here, would you like to hold her, Captain? I mean, Admiral."

Kathryn shrugged off the unease that rippled through her every time someone addressed her by her brand-new rank. "I'd love to. How are you faring, Lieutenant?"

"Not so bad. A little confused, though." B'Elanna gently deposited Miral in Kathryn's arms and smiled as her erstwhile captain's face softened. "Why were they keeping you separate from us, Admiral?"

"I'm told it was necessary to ensure a contained debriefing."

B'Elanna raised an eyebrow. "Funny that they didn't segregate the rest of us from each other."

"Have you seen Chakotay?" Kathryn asked abruptly.

B'Elanna's smile faded. "Yeah, he's around here somewhere."

Kathryn placed Miral carefully back in her mother's arms. "I need to find him. Excuse me, all of you. And let's catch up soon, shall we?" She headed for the balcony doors. "Maybe at _your_ promotion ceremonies," she added over her shoulder with a grin.

Without waiting for their reactions, she pushed through the doors and scanned the room. Over by the far wall, near the main exit, she spotted Chakotay's dark head. Kathryn started pushing her way through the crowd, politely excusing herself whenever someone tried to draw her into conversation. Still, it took her a good five minutes to reach the spot where she'd seen Chakotay.

By the time she got there he was gone.

Frantic, she ran through the exit doors and down the main steps.

He was walking away, deep in conversation with Seven. He had his palm resting on her lower back and their heads were close together. As she watched, Chakotay smiled at Seven and drew her closer against his side.

Blinking, trying to ignore the catch in her throat, Kathryn turned and made her way back up the steps.

===0===

Chakotay glanced over his shoulder and stopped short, causing Seven to slow her stride. She looked back.

"Was that Admiral Janeway?"

Chakotay shrugged, keeping his voice neutral. "It might have been. I'm not sure."

"We should congratulate her," Seven suggested.

"No," he said quickly, then more evenly, "no. I'm sure she's been overwhelmed by well-wishers tonight. We'll see her some other time."

"As you wish." Seven took his arm, and Chakotay turned his back on the woman whose side he'd stood by for the past seven years.

Not that she'd care to speak with him anyway, he thought, judging by the way their last conversation had gone.

He'd had such hopes that day. He'd wanted to tell her that everything was different now that they were home, that they weren't bound by command isolation anymore, that maybe now they could explore whatever had lingered between them for seven years. He'd had every intention of breaking it off gently with Seven that evening, so he and Kathryn could start fresh.

 _The best laid plans_ , he thought.

He was committed to being with Seven now, at least for the foreseeable future. She would never admit it, but the prospect of life on Earth frightened her, particularly given the cold reception they'd been subjected to over the past two months. And since the Doctor had ill-advisedly removed her emotional failsafe only hours before their untimely return home, she'd clung to Chakotay as her safe harbour. He couldn't abandon her now.

And, honestly, he didn't want to. He'd come to know Seven quite well over the past few months, and she'd greatly surprised him. He found her charming and easy to talk to, and her sense of humour was deliciously wicked. He could probably fall in love with her quite easily, he thought. If it weren't for Kathryn.

But Kathryn was gone.

===0===

Kathryn headed straight for the ladies' room, head down, praying nobody would spot her. At that moment she wasn't sure she'd be capable of following even the inane and repetitive kind of conversation she'd been enduring all evening.

The bathroom was empty, thank God. She bent over the sink, splashing water onto her face with trembling hands. Dabbing the dampness away with a towel, Kathryn met her own eyes in the mirror.

There was tension in the lines of her shoulders, tightness around her eyes and the corners of her mouth. She looked pale and exhausted and sad. She shook her head slightly. Anyone would think she was still back in the Delta quadrant, bowed with the responsibility of a journey that seemed to have no respite and no end.

This was not the joyous homecoming she'd dreamed of all those long and lonely years.

As she stared at her own reflection, her eyes filled with tears and a sob broke from her throat. She wanted to run back to her ship. She wanted to sit in her briefing room and look around at the dear, familiar faces of her crew. She wanted her _mother_ , damn it.

She wanted what she couldn't have. What she'd lost. What she'd pushed away.

 _Don't be a stranger_. It was the last thing Chakotay had said to her, in a tone laced with sarcasm, and it had taken every ounce of control for her to pretend it didn't rip her guts out.

 _What the hell do you want from me_? she'd wanted to scream at him. _What am I supposed to do now_?

He'd just started a relationship with _Seven_ , for God's sake. Seven, who was almost entirely inexperienced in romance, who was just beginning to explore the breadths of human emotions, who'd just had her entire universe turned on its head by their return to the Alpha quadrant. Kathryn was responsible for the way Seven's life had turned out. She was hardly going to abandon the young woman to her own devices on Earth, and then compound the injury by making a play for her new boyfriend.

Even if it cost Kathryn everything she'd hoped for.

It was clear that she and Chakotay couldn't be to each other what she'd once hoped they could be. And that last day, it had become clear that they couldn't even be friends anymore.

Starfleet captains were consummate actors; they had to be, and none more so than a captain who had to get up and fight every day for seven years, even when she didn't think she could take another step. But that day in her ready room, she'd put on the performance of her career.

Straightening up, Kathryn let her features settle into those of the clear-eyed, composed Starfleet officer everyone was expecting her to be, and walked back into her new life.

(tbc)


	3. The Delta Quadrant's Darling

Small talk is a great disguise  
Just let me be, just let me be  
Empty thoughts start to crowd my mind  
Am I only living, living to survive?

– Faith Marie, _Antidote_

===0===

 _ **Chapter Two: The Delta Quadrant's Darling**_

 _May, 2378_

Kathryn had been right, Chakotay mused as he pinned on his brand-new captain's pips. _Voyager_ 's former Maquis crewmen had been welcomed into Starfleet with open arms, and most of them, including himself, had been immediately promoted.

He'd taken Seven to Trebus after debriefings had finished. She'd got along surprisingly well with his sister Sekaya, so well that she'd been reluctant to return to Earth a month later. Officially they were still on leave until the beginning of July, but Chakotay had wanted to get back to Earth. He anticipated that some of the _Voyager_ crew would have trouble adjusting to their return and there wasn't much he could do for them from several sectors away.

And now his presence had been requested at Starfleet Headquarters. He assumed he was about to be given his next assignment. He wondered if it would be a ship of his own.

It wouldn't be _Voyager_ ; of that he was certain. The ship was at Utopia Planitia being picked over by swarms of engineers and wasn't expected to be recommissioned any time soon. At least Lieutenant Commander Torres was in charge of the operation, and Seven would be acting as Starfleet's civilian consultant on the peculiarities of _Voyager_ 's Borg componentry.

Seven and B'Elanna seemed to have resumed the truce they'd held before he and Seven had become a couple, which was a relief; Chakotay hadn't enjoyed having his girlfriend and best friend at loggerheads. Not that B'Elanna hadn't expressed a few choice opinions over his romantic decisions.

"Just tell me what the hell you're thinking," she'd demanded one night over a few too many glasses of wine. "She's half your age, Chakotay."

"But twice my IQ," he'd countered with a smile, "not to mention she's actually very sweet. And she's not half my age."

"Practically," B'Elanna had snorted. "She's what, twenty years younger than you? Don't you think you'd be better matched with someone closer to your own age?"

 _I used to_ , he'd thought. _But she's made it crystal clear that she's not interested_.

"Seven is more mature than you give her credit for," he'd replied mildly. "And besides, we're taking things slowly. I have no intention of hurting her."

"It's not her I'm worried about," B'Elanna muttered, but she'd dropped it at that – only to move onto the even less comfortable topic of his ruined friendship with their former captain. It didn't matter how deftly he tried to dodge the subject; B'Elanna wouldn't rest until he'd promised to call Kathryn the next day.

It had taken him most of the next day to work himself up to placing the call, only to reach Kathryn's aide instead, a willowy brunette whose hauteur and patrician features reminded him oddly of Seven; Lieutenant Jens had assured him Kathryn would return his call the following day. She didn't, and when he commed her office again, Jens' politeness was edged with impatience. Chakotay was left with the distinct impression that neither Kathryn nor her aide would welcome further contact.

And when B'Elanna wanted to know if he intended to keep trying to reach Kathryn anyway, Chakotay had evaded the subject, and when pressed, muttered vague half-truths.

About Seven, though, he hadn't lied; they had been taking it slowly. He'd been content with dinner dates and chaste kisses. But it seemed Seven hadn't.

The seduction took him completely by surprise. They'd finished a picnic at Golden Gate Park and walked back to Seven's apartment hand in hand. At the door, he bent to kiss her goodbye – just a brief press of his lips to hers – and she had wound her arms around his neck and pulled him inside, pressing her body to his.

Until that point, when they kissed, he'd always kept his hands strictly above her shoulders and his kisses gentle and controlled, and Seven had mentioned once or twice that she appreciated his restraint. Apparently she had changed her mind. She bit down on his lip, pushed her hips against his, tugged open his shirt and splayed her hands across his bare chest, and Chakotay had pulled back, breathing heavily.

"Seven, what are you doing?"

Her face was flushed. "We have been exclusively dating for four months, Chakotay. According to my research, most couples consummate their relationship well before this stage."

He took her hands in his and kept his voice gentle. "There's no golden rulebook for relationships, Seven. You don't need to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"I appreciate your patience with me. But I believe I'm ready." She bit her lip. "I would like to be intimate with you. That is," she looked up at him with anxiety in her eyes, "if you're willing."

Chakotay looked at her lush body, her swollen lips, her darkened eyes, and couldn't deny his own response. "Oh, I'm willing," he murmured, and bent to capture her mouth.

He'd done his best to go slowly, to draw out her pleasure, to make it all about her, and he thought he'd succeeded. Afterward she lay half over him, boneless and smiling as he traced her spine with his fingertips.

"Are you okay?"

"Very much so," she murmured drowsily. "You exceeded my expectations."

"Glad I measured up," he teased.

"You were perfect," Seven mumbled, and drifted off to sleep.

She had upped the intensity of their relationship after that night. Wanted to spend more time with him. Moved some of her belongings into his apartment, and invited him to keep his at her place. Spent the night with him several times a week, usually initiating sexual contact within half an hour of arriving. In fact, she'd become somewhat insatiable. Chakotay felt like he was off-balance most of the time – seven years of abstinence, bar a few short dalliances, and now he was bedding a beautiful young woman almost every night. It wasn't that he couldn't keep up with the pace, but he felt …

He didn't know what he felt. It all just seemed so … empty. The sex was great – Seven was in that, as in all things, a talented and diligent student – and it was nice to be physically close to someone after so many years starved of contact, but something was missing. As soon as the post-orgasm afterglow faded, all he felt was …

Empty.

===0===

Tossing her jacket on the pristine bed she hadn't slept in for almost a month, Kathryn moved toward the bathroom, shedding pieces of her uniform as she went. Her steps felt leaden. By the time she sat naked on the edge of the enormous ensuite bathtub, her eyes were almost closed.

"Computer, fill the tub. Thirty-seven degrees Celsius. Vanilla scented bubbles."

The computer chirped and delicious-smelling water began to stream into the tub. As soon as it was full enough, Kathryn lowered herself into the bath with a sigh.

~Incoming transmission,~ the computer informed her.

Kathryn could barely summon the energy to groan. "Who is it from?"

~Fleet Admiral Nyla Kjogo.~

Cursing under her breath, Kathryn hauled herself out of the bath, wrapping a robe tightly around her over-punished body. She sat at her desk and activated the commlink.

"Good evening, Admiral. What can I do for you?"

~I've made some adjustments to your schedule for next week, Kathryn. The Regulan premier has decided to pay a surprise visit to Earth and I'm assigning you to show him around. It'll be good for publicity. Lieutenant Jens will handle the details of your travel and appearances.~

"Admiral," Kathryn couldn't hide her dismay, "I've already made plans for next week. I'm going to spend some time with my mother. I've barely seen her since _Voyager_ got home. You provided your approval."

~Well, you're going to have to postpone your little holiday. President Zife has specifically asked that this assignment be given to you.~

 _President Zife_ , Kathryn thought sourly. _You'd think the man had a personal stake in ensuring I never get a moment's rest_.

"Admiral, I've just come back from a whistle-stop tour of seven member planets across three sectors, and before that I was out pressing the flesh and posing for photos in the former Demilitarised Zone for two weeks. Your aides have me spending every spare moment giving media interviews and being fitted for ridiculous haute couture ballgowns, and that personal trainer you assigned to me is a slave driver. I haven't worked out so hard or so frequently since I was a cadet." She paused to get her temper back under control. "I need some downtime with my family, sir. I'm exhausted."

~Then you'd better make sure you get some rest tonight, Kathryn, and for God's sake get a treatment done on those under-eye circles. You don't want to look like a haggard old crone in the PR shots. Kjogo out.~

The screen went black.

Kathryn didn't know whether to scream, burst into tears or throw the console across the room. But she'd spent seven years ruthlessly tamping down her emotions and it was a hard habit to break, so instead she sucked in a deep breath, went over to the liquor cabinet and poured herself a very large scotch.

===0===

"Captain Chakotay, you are hereby assigned to Starfleet Intelligence, reporting directly to Admiral Owen Paris. I believe you're acquainted?"

"We are." Chakotay shook Paris' hand, then turned back to study Admiral Kjogo; she met his gaze steadily. "Forgive me, Admiral, but I thought Admiral Paris reported to you, under the Communications Division?"

"Now that Project Pathfinder has been downgraded, Owen has been reassigned. I understand you're still on leave for another two weeks, Captain, but I expect he'd like to give you an introductory briefing now."

Kjogo rose to her feet and Chakotay and Paris mirrored her.

"Congratulations, Captain. Given your background, I'm sure you'll find counter-intelligence is an appropriate posting to utilise your skills."

"Thank you, Admiral. If I might prevail on you for a moment longer?"

Kjogo cocked an impatient eyebrow.

"I understand Admiral Janeway reports directly to you. Her former crew hasn't seen her for weeks, and they – we – miss her. Can you tell me if her schedule allows for a _Voyager_ get-together in the near future?"

"Kathryn is a very busy woman, Captain. I'm afraid she'll be fully occupied for some time to come."

Chakotay's forehead crinkled. "Surely she gets a day off every now and then?"

Kjogo shrugged. "As I said, she's a busy woman. I can't see her finding the time to mingle with lower crewmen when she has so many important engagements, but I suppose I could instruct her aide to book you in for an hour in, say, a month or so?"

Chakotay's jaw loosened. "Do you mean to tell me Kathryn hasn't had a moment to herself since debriefings, and there's no respite in sight?"

The admiral drew herself up to her full, impressive height; Chakotay found himself eye-to-eye with her. "Admiral Janeway's schedule is no longer your concern, Captain, in case you've forgotten. You don't answer to her anymore. As for respite, Kathryn is grateful to be home – that's all the rest and relaxation she needs."

"You make it sound as though Kathryn should be grateful to _you_ , Admiral." Chakotay stared at her levelly.

Kjogo flicked an unreadable glance toward Owen Paris, whose expression remained impassive, then turned back to Chakotay. "I'm sure you of all people are aware of Janeway's propensity for reckless decisions, Captain. It's largely thanks to my intervention that she wasn't brought up on numerous charges after Starfleet examined _Voyager_ 's mission logs. So, yes. She should be grateful." Kjogo smiled without warmth. "As should you," she added over her shoulder as she exited the room.

Chakotay turned back to Paris in disbelief. "Excuse my bluntness, sir, but is she serious?"

Owen sat behind his desk, waving Chakotay to the seat opposite. "About her having intervened with Command to ensure Katie avoided misconduct charges? Serious as a heart attack." He steepled his fingers, watching Chakotay carefully. "What Nyla declined to explain is that she also intervened on _your_ behalf. And on behalf of Tom and the rest of your crew, including that young lady you've been seen out and about with so frequently. Your welcome home could have been a lot less friendly without Admiral Kjogo's influence."

Chakotay's eyes narrowed. "You make it sound as though Admiral Kjogo singlehandedly kept us all out of prison out of the goodness of her heart."

"Do I?" Owen asked mildly. "Well, I'm sure Katie's had something to do with that as well. After all, she hasn't missed an opportunity to praise her former crew to the media." Paris continued to stare at him. "And you and I both know how much Katie loves the spotlight."

"Kathryn _hates_ the –" Chakotay paused, reading the glimmer in Owen's eye. Closing his mouth, he sat back as comprehension rushed over him.

So Kathryn had been dragooned into service as Starfleet's media darling under threat of losing her career? Chakotay growled. She'd given them, and her crew, the best years of her life, and this was how they repaid her? She must be hating every minute of it.

 _It's not your problem anymore_ , he reminded himself.

Screw that. He might no longer be her first officer, but he was still her friend –

 _Except you're not_.

She'd made sure of that on their first day back in the Alpha quadrant, and she'd kept on making sure of it over the months since. It was obvious. Sure, Starfleet had her sequestered for debriefings, but surely after her release she could have got in touch with him if she'd wanted to re-establish their friendship. No matter how busy she was.

He remembered the night of her promotion. He'd lingered, despite Seven's discomfort in the crowded hall of strangers, hoping for a chance to speak with Kathryn. But she'd come nowhere near him and eventually he'd suggested to Seven that they leave. And then, on their way out, he'd turned back to glance at the doors of Cochrane Hall, and thought for a moment that he'd seen her. But she'd had her back to him – if it was even really her – and was walking away.

And yet… the thought of drifting further away from her, of completely letting go of what they'd had… it was unacceptable.

Dragging himself back into the present, Chakotay sat forward. Owen Paris was still watching him patiently.

"Have you spoken with Kathryn lately, sir?" Chakotay asked.

"You heard Nyla," Owen replied. "Katie's schedule doesn't leave much time for socialising. But I'm sure she'd welcome a call from her former first officer."

"I've tried to reach her," Chakotay admitted. "But I'll try again."

"Good move." Paris handed him a padd. "In the meantime, Captain, welcome to Starfleet Intel."

"Admiral –" Chakotay took the padd, frowning. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but why am I here? Seeing I've just been promoted to captain, I rather expected I'd be given command of a ship."

Paris smiled. "You're here because I requested you."

"I see." Chakotay studied him. "So why the promotion?"

"A captain's rank gives you a far higher clearance level, and you'll need that for the assignment I have in mind for you. My aide will brief you fully, but I wanted to give you a heads-up and see if I can't tempt you to wrap up your leave a few weeks early."

"Something urgent?"

"You could say that." Owen leaned back in his chair. "Have you heard of the Fermola Rebellion?"

Chakotay searched his memory. "I remember hearing something about it from the Pathfinder transmissions. Wasn't it a skirmish over mining rights in the Trialas system a few years back?"

"That's the one. As you know, the Trialas system is independent, but Starfleet relies heavily on the dilithium produced on the third and fourth planets. The mining rights were managed by Japori II until about four years ago, when a group of miners decided they weren't happy with Federation trade laws. They took over the Fermola dilithium facility and refused to allow any of the product to be transported to the Japori freighters."

"As I understand it, the hijack was contained and the mine returned to Japori authority?"

"Yes, Starfleet stepped in and sorted it all out. Or so we thought."

Chakotay frowned. "What are you saying, Admiral?"

"I'm saying the Fermola group didn't just go gentle into the good night, Captain. The ringleaders consented to leave the Trialas system, but it appears their rebellion was incited by an individual or individuals we haven't yet identified, and the Fermola incident was just the start of things. For the past few years they've been building alliances and gathering resources. Someone has to be bankrolling all that. They've become quite the power to be reckoned with for anyone wanting to trade with the Borderlands planets."

"Which would include the Federation and the Klingon Empire," Chakotay deduced.

"And the Cardassians," Paris agreed. "We even suspect they've made overtures into the Romulan Star Empire."

Chakotay's eyebrows rose. "I can see why Starfleet Intelligence is interested."

"On top of that, they've been encroaching on what were traditionally Orion and Ferengi trade routes. They're risking open conflict in close proximity to Federation space. It could destabilise the whole region."

"So why not shut them down?"

"We can't," Owen said flatly. "Not only does Starfleet no longer have the manpower, but we don't know who's bankrolling them. They're as tricky as the Orion Syndicate – you think you've found the kingpin and it turns out to be just another lackey. Nobody knows – or is giving up – the brains behind the operation."

"I see."

"We need someone to train up the new operatives we're grooming to send in undercover. And a fresh perspective on the intel wouldn't go astray, either."

"You want me to train intelligence operatives?"

"You're the ideal candidate. You taught Advanced Tactics for over two years, joined an insurgent group that ran rings around both Starfleet and the Cardassians for a good while, and picked up a few tricks in the Delta quadrant, I'd warrant. What do you say?"

Chakotay hesitated. He'd spoken the truth before: he'd expected a ship of his own, a crew, the chance to continue exploring space. But it was good to feel solid ground beneath his feet, and this job would give him the opportunity to stay close to the _Voyager_ s – at least, those who decided to stay on Earth. And, hopefully, to rekindle his friendship with Kathryn.

And of course, he remembered somewhat belatedly, there was his relationship with Seven to think of. He shifted in his chair.

"I'd say I'm in," he replied.

"Great." Paris stood and indicated the padd Chakotay held in his hands. "There's some background info. Report to your new office in the Turner Building tomorrow at 0900 sharp for a full briefing."

===0===

Premier Sina of Regulus V was a royal pain in the ass, Kathryn reflected as she dragged herself through the front door of her apartment. The Caitian had taken a shine to her of the most irritating sort, and she'd spent the past four days unwinding his two-metre tail from various parts of her body and picking strands of his fur – it was shedding season – off her uniform.

Stripping off her jacket and tossing it into the recycler, Kathryn sneezed for perhaps the hundredth time that day. Not only was she not particularly fond of cats, it seemed she'd developed an allergy to this particular felinoid.

At least she had the night off for a change – the premier was attending a formal dinner at President Zife's residence – and she intended to make the most of it. Kathryn stripped to her underwear and headed directly for the bathroom.

"Computer, fill the bathtub. Maintain temperature at thirty-eight degrees Celsius and add rose-scented bubbles."

She went back to the kitchen while the tub was filling, selected champagne from the multitude of bottles that appeared in her fridge with alarming regularity and popped it open, swigging directly from the bottle's neck. The kitchen counter was blooming with bouquets, all bearing cards addressed to 'the darling of the Delta quadrant' or some variant, and her coffee table was overflowing with prettily-wrapped boxes. Kathryn slumped against the wall. Would this never stop? Lieutenant Jens had had to be given the passcode to her apartment so she could arrange for delivery of the gifts that kept turning up at Kathryn's office.

She fingered the card attached to a spray of lurid Rigelian orchids, idly reading the inscription, which was so explicit it made her blush. She screwed it up in one hand and tossed it into the sink.

Wandering back toward the bedroom, she noticed that there were seven messages blinking on the console on her desk. Jens was pretty adept at weeding out the party invitations, requests to give commemorative speeches and marriage proposals, so this lot should hopefully all be from people Kathryn actually wanted to talk to. She pressed 'play' and listened as she tipped the champagne bottle back up to her lips.

 _Hello, sweetheart_ , came her mother's voice, and Kathryn smiled. _I'm so sorry you couldn't make it home this week. I hope they're not working you too hard. Tell that fleet admiral of yours that if she doesn't let you take a break soon, she'll have me to answer to_.

Kathryn's mouth twisted. She doubted even Gretchen Janeway could intimidate Nyla Kjogo.

 _Phoebe and Sean will be here for the weekend_ , Gretchen continued. _They'd love to catch up with you before they head back to Betazed. Try to come for a few hours at least, won't you? I'll be making my famous cheesecake for your birthday. I love you, honey_.

Her mother's message ended, and Kathryn's smile faded. She'd barely seen Phoebe since touching down on Earth – her sister was busy with a travelling exhibition of her artwork – and she hadn't even met her brother-in-law yet. She was supposed to be attending yet another interminable diplomatic ball this weekend, this time in London. Kjogo would be there, parading Kathryn before the photographers, and she doubted she'd be able to escape the fleet admiral's vice-like grip for long enough to visit the powder room, let alone sneak off to Indiana.

And Saturday was her birthday. Her forty-third birthday, and her first chance in seven years to celebrate it with her family. _Damn it_.

There were still six messages waiting. Kathryn's eyes blurred as she stared at the console, and she suddenly decided she didn't want to hear from anyone else. For the first few weeks after their release from debriefings, her former senior staff – with two notable exceptions she refused to think about – had called to leave invitations to dinners and weekends away, but after a string of last-minute broken dates the invitations had slowed to a trickle and the tone of the messages had morphed from cheerful to concerned. Even the persistent B'Elanna Torres had stopped suggesting Kathryn make the time to visit her goddaughter and started asking if she was okay.

And Kathryn didn't want to admit to anyone, least of all the crew she still lived to protect, that she wasn't at all okay.

London turned out much as Kathryn had expected: overdressed ambassadors, blowhard admirals and platters of the richest, most decadent food the Federation had to offer, and Kjogo had hardly left her side. She'd barely had the chance to comm her mother and apologise for missing out on the cake Gretchen had made especially for her birthday.

The following weeks were filled with yet more official functions, media interviews, mindless paperwork and the interminable, body-shattering workouts her personal trainer prescribed. By the time July rolled around, Kathryn could barely drag herself out of bed.

She was bored, she was lonely, she was exhausted, and she was starting to wonder about the point of it all. Surely by now her former crew were safe from Kjogo's thinly-veiled threats of reprisal? Surely Kathryn had earned the right to request an assignment that actually _meant_ something?

Determined, she dressed in her perfectly-pressed uniform, pinned up her hair – Kjogo had insisted she have it lengthened, claiming it was both versatile and photogenic; it was perhaps the only concession Kathryn hadn't really minded making – and checked her reflection. The woman gazing back at her had the smooth skin of a Kriosian and the taut body of a teenager. She'd never looked better.

Except for her eyes, which laid bare the weariness of her soul.

Scowling, Kathryn strode out of her apartment, resolved that today would be the day she stood up to Nyla Kjogo.

An hour later, she staggered into her office, reeling.

So much for her demands. She'd started by requesting a transfer to another division – Science, Intelligence, Exploration, anything useful – and been flatly denied, which wasn't unexpected. Her next tactic was to suggest she use her newfound fame to lead first-contact missions; again, Kjogo had refused, telling her she was needed in her current capacity and should leave the first contacts to the fleet captains. Finally, growing desperate, she'd declared that she intended to take a leave of absence whether Kjogo approved it or not, and if not, she was prepared to resign from Starfleet.

Kjogo had risen to her feet, hands planted on her desk, cold glare turned on her.

"If you attempt to refuse my orders – if you defy me – if you so much as _sneeze_ in the wrong direction, Kathryn, I will rescind the generosity this organisation has shown you and your former crew. I will request that the Judge Advocate General open an immediate investigation into your many transgressions against the Prime Directive. I will have the unsavoury elements of your crew – _all_ of them – thrown into prison. I will have your Borg dissected by Starfleet Medical. I will have your EMH decompiled. And don't think I can't, or won't, make good on this promise."

Kathryn stood to face her, pale but determined.

"Leave my crew out of this, Admiral. I will _not_ allow them to be treated like criminals or lab rats. They deserve all the accolades and the freedom they have already been granted, and I resent your threats."

"Your ingratitude," Kjogo's voice lowered dangerously, "is unbecoming of a Starfleet officer."

"Then allow me to resign," Kathryn shot back.

"That is not an option." Kjogo's expression flickered. "However, in the interest of harmony, I will agree to allow you two weeks' personal leave – _after_ you complete your next assignment."

"Which is?"

Kjogo smiled. "A simple diplomatic mission, and not even very far from home. Representatives of a number of Borderland planets will be meeting with President Zife on Stardate 55508. The topics of discussion will include strengthening trade agreements and political affiliations between the unallied Borderlands worlds and the Federation."

 _Stardate 55508_. Kathryn stared at her. "That's only two days away, Admiral, and I haven't been briefed on the political intricacies of those sectors."

"That's why you'll be taking Lieutenant Jens with you. She is fully apprised of the political situation. You'll find her a useful resource."

Kathryn's lips compressed. "I see. And might I ask where this conference is being held?"

"Of course." Kjogo smiled genially, but her eyes were sharp. "It's a world you're quite familiar with, in fact. You spent some time there – oh, it must be almost twenty years ago now."

Kathryn stared at her.

"Yes, in fact, I believe Stardate 55508 will make it exactly twenty years since – oh, but of course, it's unlikely you remember the event with a great deal of joy. Never mind. I'm sure your second visit to Tau Ceti Prime will be a much happier occasion."

Unable to speak, Kathryn had allowed Kjogo to take her by the elbow and guide her out into the anteroom. Whatever else the fleet admiral might have said to her was lost in the haze of her own shock. She could barely remember her feet moving, carrying her automatically to the dubious sanctuary of her own office.

Tau Ceti Prime.

The loss of her father and fiancé in that fatal shuttle crash on the Tau Ceti ice cap – almost exactly twenty years ago, as Kjogo had so sweetly pointed out – was a hurt that had faded over time and under the weight of countless other losses, but it was one she would never completely get over. And the wanton, deliberate cruelty with which Kjogo had delivered her blow left Kathryn shell-shocked.

She no longer harboured any doubts that, should she flout Admiral Kjogo's orders, the Tandaran woman would use every ounce of influence and vindictiveness to make her, and _Voyager_ 's crew, pay for it. She couldn't refuse Kjogo's assignments. She couldn't even resign from Starfleet. Any act of defiance would leave the people she loved unprotected.

She was trapped.

===0===

The sweat had barely dried on their skin when Seven raised her head from Chakotay's chest and announced that she would be accompanying her Aunt Irene to visit relatives on the Vega colony the following day.

"For how long?" Chakotay frowned at her.

Seven shrugged. "Two weeks. Perhaps longer."

Chakotay sat up, dislodging her from her comfortable position in his arms. "And you're just mentioning this now?"

Her eyes flickered uncertainly; it appeared her lack of experience in human relationships had caused her to transgress. "I apologise – I should have mentioned it sooner… My aunt has been suggesting the trip for some time, but I was busy upgrading _Voyager_ 's astrometrics lab. However, the work has reached a stage where I am able to leave it in the hands of Utopia Planitia's engineers." She hesitated. "I didn't mean to distress you. I'll tell my aunt I won't be able to go."

"No." Chakotay sighed. "You should go. I'm sorry for getting upset with you."

"You've been so busy with your new role," Seven added gently. "I doubt you will notice my absence."

"If you're suggesting I won't miss you," he traced the side of her face with one finger, "you couldn't be more wrong," and she relaxed back against him, smiling.

And yet, when he saw Seven off at the transport station the following morning, Chakotay found himself heading to work with a smile on his face and a spring in his step.

He'd spent the first three days of his new job poring over the data Starfleet Intelligence had collected on the former Fermola rebels, chasing leads and checking facts, and delivered his report to Owen Paris in person, waiting patiently while the admiral read it.

"The Celendi Nebula?" Paris had asked. "You think that's their base of operations?"

"That's my theory."

Paris leaned back in his chair, placing the padd on his desk. "It's certainly close to Trialas. But it's riddled with plasma storms and unstable gases, and the Orion Syndicate controls three of the nearest planets. It's hardly a safe harbour."

"Which is exactly why I believe the Fermola group chose it – it's the perfect hiding place, out in plain sight but very difficult to penetrate." He added pointedly, "And it wouldn't be the first time a dissident group has used an unstable area of space in this manner."

Paris allowed a smirk to cross his face. "I knew your Maquis background would come in handy." He studied the padd again. "Starfleet hasn't charted any habitable worlds inside the Celendi Nebula. Where do you think they're lurking?"

Chakotay shrugged. "We won't know until we go in there."

He'd spent the past six weeks imparting to his new team, a Vulcan and a human, everything he knew about covert tactics, and now they were ready to go in undercover. The work was hard and the hours were long, and he hadn't seen a lot of Seven. She was tolerant of his absence; more so, he reflected ruefully, than a less experienced lover might be. But then, she was just as busy as he. Starfleet had engaged her to install an astrometrics lab on their newest prototype vessel, and she'd insisted Harry Kim be posted to the project alongside her.

Chakotay's workload failed to keep him distracted from the knowledge that Kathryn Janeway had not responded to any of the messages he'd left her, and her continued silence hurt more than he was willing to admit to himself. After the fifth unreturned comm call, he conceded defeat.

She seemed to be forever in the news – smiling with diplomats, shaking hands with ambassadors, stepping from hovercars in slinky hand-tailored dresses – and Chakotay had taken to switching off the broadcasts as soon as his former captain's face appeared.

He'd learn to live with the loss of her friendship, he told himself. He had Seven in his life now. He didn't need Kathryn. And clearly, she didn't need him.

But then, scanning the Federation News Network for pieces on the Borderlands trade worlds, he caught the tail-end of a social snippet: President Zife had met two days earlier with representatives from Yaraka, Midrian and Turkana at the recently refurbished ambassadorial residence on Tau Ceti Prime. Chakotay's curiosity was piqued; those three worlds featured heavily in the Intelligence reports as possible strongholds for the Fermola group. He flipped through the holoimages from the conference. There was Zife, rotund blue face grinning widely as he shook hands with well-tailored, smooth-looking businessmen. There was Admiral Nyla Kjogo, who never seemed to be far from the president, eyes sharp and dress uniform perfect. And there – God. There was Kathryn Janeway.

He stared, and couldn't stop staring.

She looked beautiful – sleek, groomed, her lithe body clothed in a black silk dress that clung to her like a waterfall. Her hair fell in loose curls down her back and her complexion looked like cream. He found himself touching a finger to the image, as though he could feel the softness of her skin.

Then he looked into her eyes, and his stomach clenched.

He knew that look. Had seen it before, many times, in the Delta quadrant. After battles, when they counted their injured and dead. During senior staff briefings when each ship's report painted a picture grimmer than the last. In the Void.

She was in pain. And he wasn't there to help shoulder her burden.

 _Admiral Kathryn Janeway entertains representatives from a number of trade worlds on July 5 at the Ambassadorial Hall on Tau Ceti Prime_ , he read in the caption below the picture.

Chakotay re-read it: _July 5, Tau Ceti Prime_. A loose connection sparked in his mind. That date, that planet. It meant something.

The memory came to him gradually. Kathryn had been sitting on his couch late one night, two years ago now, feet tucked beneath her, eyes bleak as she recounted one of the most painful events of her life. _They both died eighteen years ago today_ , she'd told him, _drowned under the polar ice cap on Tau Ceti Prime._ _I was the only survivor_.

She'd never been back to the scene of that terrible loss. Until now.

He was shocked and dismayed for her, and he couldn't believe she'd have chosen to be there, on that day of all days. And if she hadn't chosen it, then somebody must have forced her into it.

Chakotay yanked his console toward him and punched open a commline.

~Admiral Janeway's office.~ The young woman answering onscreen obviously recognised him, but her cool expression never changed.

"Lieutenant Jens," Chakotay greeted her. "May I speak with the admiral?"

~I'm sorry, Captain, but Admiral Janeway is unavailable at present. I've passed on your earlier messages, but I'll be happy to let her know you called again.~

"I'd like to see her at her earliest convenience."

~In what regard, sir?~

Chakotay raised his eyebrows. "That's between the admiral and me, Lieutenant. How soon can you book me in?"

Jens made a show of consulting a padd. ~The admiral has a thirty-minute slot available at 0800 hours two weeks from Friday. Shall I make you an appointment?~

"Two weeks?" Chakotay stared at her. "That's ridiculous. Look, Lieutenant, the admiral and I are old friends, as I'm sure you know. Just tell her I called. I'm sure she'll make the time to see me."

~Of course,~ the lieutenant answered smoothly. ~Thank you for calling, Captain. Have a nice day.~

The screen blinked off, and Chakotay sat staring at it pensively.

Was this the life Kathryn had hoped for, after seven years of sacrificing herself to get her crew home to Earth? Was this what she wanted?

Somehow, he doubted it. He remembered his conversation with Admiral Kjogo a couple of months earlier, when she'd implied that but for her influence, Kathryn would have been court-martialled.

And yet the rest of her crew had been pardoned, promoted, promised the world on a platter and had it hand-delivered.

And he found himself wondering just what sacrifices she'd agreed to, and continued to make, so that her crew could live the lives _they_ wanted.


	4. Turning Tides

Walk with me

Open your sensitive mouth and talk to me

Hold out your delicate hands and feel me

– Depeche Mode, _Rush_

===0===

 _ **Chapter Three: Turning Tides**_

 _July, 2378_

It wasn't as though tonight was any different. Another function, another shimmering, just-this-side-of-respectable dress. Another sparkling evening, during which she would smile and drink champagne and pretend not to mind when some sweaty diplomat addressed her as 'honey' or let his hands linger just a little too long. Another night she'd spend alone in her apartment in her cold white bed. And another morning to follow, during which Admiral Kjogo would berate her for challenging the political views of whichever ambassador she was supposed to charm, and snipe at her for smiling too infrequently, or for not showing enough cleavage.

No, tonight was nothing different. And yet the very knowledge that this, tonight, was just one more evening in an interminable stretch of evenings that she couldn't imagine ever ending, was the thing that drove Kathryn to excuse herself abruptly and seek solitude on the terrace before she screamed.

She'd been through this a hundred times before, half a galaxy away: gritting her teeth behind a polite smile as she danced or dined with some alien trade minister, hiding the boredom and frustration as she negotiated for whatever _Voyager_ was running low on that week. But at least then she'd had her crew to back her up: Tom's cheeky running commentary, Tuvok's dry wit, Chakotay's bolstering smile and protective hand on her back…

Kathryn leaned on the terrace railing, sighing. There was no point in romanticising the past. Life on _Voyager_ had been years of terror interspersed with periods of loneliness and tedium, and there was no use pretending any different. At least her life now was more tedium than terror.

As for the loneliness – well, not a lot had changed there.

 _Be honest_ , she rebuked herself. _That's your choice now, just as much as it was your choice out there._

She'd started out trying to keep in touch with the crew. Particularly Tom and B'Elanna, who were both brave enough and stubborn enough to persist in calling her almost daily, weeks after she'd stopped hearing from Harry, the Doctor, Sam Wildman and the others. But every time she promised to meet up with them, Kjogo's wilful directing of her social schedule forced her to cancel. It distressed Kathryn that as far as her crew was concerned she had become unreliable.

Even Tuvok's communiques no longer arrived with any regularity; she had last heard from him two months ago, when he'd informed her he was returning to active service but hadn't said where he was being posted. Kathryn made a mental note to have Lieutenant Jens track him down. She could use a little Vulcan clarity in her life right about now.

As for Seven, she had sent a short message after debriefings to let Kathryn know that she was going to Trebus, another when she and Chakotay had returned, and three or four brief messages since then. She seemed not to expect a reply; Kathryn rather thought the messages were a duty her former protégée was performing, like filing a status report. She had replied anyway, keeping her messages brief and upbeat; Seven had never been comfortable with excessive displays of emotion, and the last thing Kathryn wanted was to make Seven uncomfortable. Or Chakotay, for that matter.

Not that Chakotay would care one way or the other. She hadn't heard from him since _Voyager_ slipped into drydock, nor had she expected to; not after their final, soul-splintering conversation in her ready room.

That didn't make it hurt any less.

Maybe she'd made the wrong choices about him, out there in the Delta quadrant. Maybe she wouldn't have been so lonely then, be so lonely now, if she'd chosen differently –

"Is this railing taken?"

The smooth, gently amused masculine voice startled her. Turning, Kathryn's gaze lit on a broad chest in pristine white linen, a head of slightly tousled black hair and a pair of smiling, very blue eyes in a face so handsome she couldn't help staring.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you," the man said. "Ryan Austin."

Recovering her composure, she took his outstretched hand. "Kathryn –"

"– Janeway. Yes, I know." He grinned. "I'd have to be living under a rock not to know who you are."

Her smile faded.

"Actually," the man said, lowering his voice, "I was hoping I'd have the chance to meet you tonight." The grin broadened. "I was starting to think I'd have to do something embarrassing to get your attention, and then luckily I spotted you out here all alone."

Kathryn tugged her hand away unobtrusively. "Mr Austin …"

"Ryan," he corrected.

"I don't mean to be rude, but if you're looking for an interview you'll need to talk to my aide, Lieutenant Jens. She handles all my media engagements."

"Oh, I'm not a reporter," he laughed. "Just a fan hoping to get to know the woman behind the legend."

"I'm hardly a legend, Mr Austin."

"Ryan," he repeated. "And I beg to differ, but we can change the subject if you like."

"I would like."

"What should we talk about then?" Ryan leaned a hip on the railing, smiling down at her, and Kathryn couldn't help a small shiver at the obvious interest in his gaze.

She took a small step backward, glancing away from those disconcertingly warm eyes. "Actually, I should probably get back inside –"

"Great." Ryan straightened up, offering his arm. "Allow me to escort you, Kathryn Janeway who dislikes being called a legend. Maybe you'll even do me the honour of a dance."

She studied his face. He seemed sincere enough in his interest, and she didn't think she'd imagined the way his gaze had lingered on her bare shoulders. And he was undeniably attractive. She felt that tingle along her spine again. It seemed so long since anyone had looked at her that way.

Kathryn raised her chin and smiled back at him, taking his arm. "I'd love to dance."

There were only a few other couples out on the floor, and Kathryn bit back on a surge of anxiety as knowing smiles turned toward her.

"Ever feel like you're being watched?" Ryan murmured as he turned her into his hold.

She sighed. "Unnerving, isn't it. Still want to dance with me?"

"I'm here with the most beautiful woman in Starfleet. Do I look like I care who's watching?"

Kathryn raised an eyebrow at him. "Most beautiful woman in Starfleet? I know a good doctor if you need your eyes checked."

"Are you telling me you don't know how gorgeous you are?" Ryan held her away from him, letting his gaze sweep over her body. "Half the men and women in this room wish they were me right now."

"I thought we were going to change the subject."

"Okay," he said easily, gathering her close again. She forced herself to ignore the way his thumb was stroking her spine, and just how good it felt.

"Tell me about you," she tried not to stammer.

He shrugged. "I run a small courier company, mostly delivering medical supplies from Federation worlds to planets without the resources to produce their own."

"A commendable profession," Kathryn said, then, "Forgive me for being blunt, but what are you doing here?"

"You mean, what's a small-time businessman doing at this very swanky ball attended by legends?" Ryan smirked down at her. "My dad was a Starfleet admiral who knew how to network. I guess I've managed to stay in the inner circle since he died."

"Admiral Bart Austin?" Kathryn's eyes widened in recognition. "I remember him – he was a friend of my father's."

"Sounds like you and I go way back," he answered, as his fingertips brushed low on the base of her back.

Kathryn tensed, and felt his fingers slide upward. She couldn't help the quick glance up under her lashes. He was watching her, pupils dilated. She swallowed around a suddenly dry throat.

"Kathryn."

"Yes?" she managed.

"Have dinner with me tomorrow night."

"I can't – I have somewhere I'm supposed to be …" She was sure she did; her calendar always seemed to be full …

"Cancel it."

She felt his breath brush her temple.

"I don't –" she bit her lip. "I don't even know you."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "You already know my pedigree. I could send my résumé to your office if you'd like."

Kathryn's cheeks reddened.

"I know a place that does the best kung pao noodles in the city," he cajoled. "It's quiet and out of the way, and they make a killer coffee."

"Quiet?" she repeated, tempted. "No paparazzi lurking around the corner?"

"Not a one."

She tilted her head, unable to stop the smile flirting with her lips. "Good coffee?"

"The best."

She thought about choices she'd made in the Delta quadrant, and about going home to her empty bed, and she told herself defiantly, _what the hell. Why not_?

"Okay," she said, letting the smile blossom on her face. "It's a date."

===0===

Seven was inordinately pleased to find Harry Kim waiting for her when she stepped off the transporter pad on the USS _Mehit_ , one of the brand-new _Hawking_ -class exploratory vessels. They were scheduled to bring its new astrometrics lab online by 1500 hours, and Seven estimated there was almost a full day's work to do before then.

"Lieutenant," she greeted him.

Harry held out a hand to help her down from the pad. "Hi, Seven. Ready for launch day?"

"Launch day?"

"Yeah. The Commander-in-Chief is coming by to watch us bring the lab online. I think she wants to crack a bottle of champagne over the console."

"For what purpose?" Seven arched an eyebrow at him as they strode into the corridor.

He grinned. "It's a traditional way to celebrate success, Seven. Don't you remember us christening the slipstream drive back in the DQ?"

She remembered becoming intoxicated on a few sips of champagne and resolving to avoid it from that day on. "Will I be expected to partake?"

Harry snickered. "Don't worry, nobody will notice if you fake it."

They entered the lab and Seven immediately strode to the main console, where Ensign Tal Celes was calibrating the long-range sensors. "Status, Ensign?"

"The sensors are distorting the images returned from the farthest areas of scanned space. I've been trying to recalibrate, but …" Tal trailed off, stepping aside for Seven.

"Try this algorithm," Seven suggested, entering the beginning of a code and indicating Tal should take over. She stood by as Tal completed the sequence and the image on the viewscreen came into clearer focus.

"Thanks, Seven," Tal broke into a smile.

"You almost had it," Seven praised her. "Continue."

As they moved away, Harry leaned in close to Seven. "That was impressive."

"It was a relatively simple numerical sequence."

"I'm not talking about the algorithm." Harry pulled her aside, speaking low. "I meant the way you were with Tal. You've really figured out how to get the best out of her with a little encouragement."

Seven met his approving eyes and wondered why Lieutenant Kim's compliment, and the touch of his hand on her shoulder, caused a small bubble of pleasure to rise in her chest. She dropped her gaze, feeling guilty for a reason she couldn't name. "It seems Chakotay's guidance has provided me with a positive influence."

"Of course." Harry dropped his hand from her shoulder and stepped back, his smile fading. "Well, I guess we should get to work."

They logged into their consoles and as Seven initiated a diagnostic she found herself becoming distracted by Lieutenant Kim's physical presence beside her. Her peripheral vision was focused on the movement of his hands across the controls. She imagined those capable fingers smoothing across her shoulders, weaving into her hair, cradling her face …

Flushing, Seven forced her attention back to the program she was running and resolved to set aside some time when she was alone to examine the confusing array of emotions she'd begun to experience whenever she was in close proximity to Harry Kim.

===0===

Kathryn was surprised to find that in fact, there was no need to cancel some tedious official function to make her date with Ryan Austin. For the first time in what seemed like months she had the evening free.

Despite her resentment of Fleet Admiral Kjogo's micro-management of her life, there were a few advantages to it, Kathryn reflected as she stepped out of the sonic shower and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel.

For one thing, she never had to fret about finding something to wear. Her wardrobe had never been so expansive, nor her clothing so beautifully tailored to her exact specifications.

For another, those specifications – thanks to her army of beauty specialists and that drill sergeant of a personal trainer – had never been so streamlined. Kathryn dropped the towel and inspected her reflection. She hadn't been kidding when she complained to Kjogo that she'd never worked out so hard in her life, and it showed. There wasn't an ounce of extra weight on her, her muscles were lean and strong, her skin glowed and her hair shone.

Kathryn performed a small pirouette in front of the mirror and couldn't help a smirk of satisfaction. She would never fill out a catsuit to Seven of Nine's proportions, but she was pretty sure she'd give her former protégée a run for her money these days. She'd love to see Chakotay's expression if –

She cut off that rebellious train of thought immediately.

Moving to the wardrobe, Kathryn flicked through the hangers, trying to decide what would be an appropriate outfit for a dinner date. _A date_ , she thought, with a brief rise of excitement. It had been so long, she wasn't even sure what to do on a date.

She selected a lightweight, navy-blue dress and turned to her bureau. The drawers were overflowing with lingerie of all kinds. Picking up a matched set in skimpy red lace, she huffed out a laugh. There was nothing Starfleet-issue about these.

She started to put them back in the drawer, then hesitated. It wasn't as though she had any intention of modelling them tonight, but it had been so long since she wore something indulgent just for herself instead of whatever her stylist decided would maximise the optics.

Defiantly, Kathryn put on the lingerie, slipped on the dress and twisted her hair into a loose knot at the base of her neck. A light application of makeup, some perfume and a pair of stiletto heels, and she was ready.

There was still half an hour until she was due to meet Ryan at the restaurant, and she had no idea what to do with herself until then.

She spent five minutes rearranging the flowers in one of the vases on the drinks cabinet, ten minutes checking her messages and confirming her calendar for the next week, and a further five fiddling with her hair, trying all the while to ignore the hastening of her heartbeat. _It's just dinner_ , she rolled her eyes at herself.

Dinner, with an attractive man she barely knew.

Maybe that was why she was so nervous. For seven years she'd lived with the same people, give or take a few. She knew the names, the hobbies and foibles, the strengths and the weaknesses and the personal histories of every single person on her ship. And here was this man – this good-looking, interesting, _interested_ man – who was also a complete stranger, and she was anxious because he was somebody she knew nothing about. Somebody she'd have to get to know.

Somebody who'd expect her to open up to him.

Her throat closed over at that thought, and before she could second-guess herself, Kathryn had poured two fingers of scotch into a glass and slugged it.

So that was what terrified her. Letting someone in, laying bare all of her quirks and imperfections. She wouldn't be the captain – aloof and unknowable – if Ryan Austin turned out to be someone she wanted to spend time with. There would be no hiding her feelings behind the impenetrable wall of protocol.

She could get hurt.

Kathryn scoffed out loud. As if it hadn't hurt to keep herself apart all those years. As if it hadn't hurt to pretend she felt nothing more than friendship and obligation for the people she loved. As if it hadn't _hurt_ to swallow the bitter knowledge that, by her own actions, she'd pushed away the man who, once upon a time, had loved her too.

The alarm on her personal console chimed, making her jump. So much for being ready early – now she'd have to hurry if she wanted to make it to the restaurant on time. Pulling a light wrap around her shoulders and shoving her feet into low-heeled shoes, Kathryn activated the personal transport device Kjogo had insisted she carry and rematerialised in a small, dimly-lit entry foyer.

"Kathryn."

Ryan was waiting for her, leaning against the bar, tall and lean in a dark-grey suit. She smiled in answer to his lit-up grin and moved toward him.

"Hi." She felt suddenly shy as she approached, but then he took hold of her hand and leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek – warm, and somehow comforting – and she felt her trepidation dissolve. He smelled good, woody and spicy, and she didn't want to move away.

"Hi," he replied, pulling back slightly to smile at her. "You look amazing. Are you hungry?"

"Famished," she realised.

"Great." Ryan nodded to someone behind her. "This is Liang – he's the owner and head chef here. I've left the menu to him, but trust me, you'll love his food."

Kathryn turned to face the short, smiling man in the white apron.

"Admiral Janeway, it's an honour." Liang smiled. "I'll show you to your table."

As they followed him, Kathryn glanced around and frowned. "We're the only ones here."

"Well, you mentioned that you were sick of being the centre of attention, so I booked the place out." Ryan ducked his head sheepishly, tugging on his ear.

The gesture was so familiar and yet so out of place that Kathryn blanched, her step faltering.

"Kathryn?" Ryan turned back to her. "I'm sorry, did I overstep?"

"No … no," she said faintly. "It was … very thoughtful. Thank you."

Ryan held her chair for her as she sank into it, crossing her legs. He slid into the seat opposite as Liang filled their wine glasses. She found it hard to return his smile.

"Is everything okay?" he murmured after Liang had recited the dishes he planned to cook for them and disappeared into the kitchen.

Kathryn straightened her shoulders, forcing herself to meet his clear gaze. "Everything's fine," she assured him.

"Good," Ryan answered, reaching across the table to take her hand between his. "Because I've been looking forward to this since last night, and I was kind of hoping you have, too."

A small flutter of pleasure began in her fingertips, encased in his warm hands, and spread throughout her body, and Kathryn reminded herself to let go of all the things that might have been and concentrate on what could be.

"Actually, I have," she told him with a slow smile, and Ryan relaxed into his chair and raised his wine to her.

The food was as delicious as he'd promised and the conversation surprisingly easy. They found they had several acquaintances in common as well as a shared Starfleet childhood, and Kathryn enjoyed Ryan's dry humour and slightly wicked commentary on everything from the political landscape to the music she'd missed during seven years in exile. By the time they finished dinner and a bottle of wine, Kathryn realised with a slight start that it was almost midnight.

"I'd better go," she said regretfully, rising from her chair. "I have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

"May I walk you home?" Ryan asked, standing to help her on with her wrap.

"No need." Kathryn held up the small personal transporter.

"Friends in high places," Ryan grinned. "In that case, Kathryn – can I see you again? Soon?"

"I'd like that."

"Then I'll call you tomorrow." He took a step closer and Kathryn found herself holding her breath as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Okay," she said, slightly breathless.

Their eyes locked, and Kathryn knew he was going to kiss her. And she was going to let him.

The instant before his mouth touched hers, she let her eyes drift shut and the face she'd been trying so hard to forget flashed behind her closed lids … but then she felt Ryan's warm lips brushing hers, and a bolt of lust so strong it was shocking seared through her. She gasped, her hands coming up to clutch his shoulders, and he took advantage of her opened mouth to lick inside, his tongue stroking lightly against hers. She felt his hands, one on her hip, one flat against her lower back, and couldn't stop herself from leaning into him. It felt … God, she felt almost insane, so strong was her desire for him.

It was that fleeting thought that dragged her back to reality, and Kathryn stepped back away from him, her breath coming fast.

"What –" she started, then shook her head. She'd never felt anything like that before – a physical, visceral need so immediate, so intense, she'd been half afraid she'd let him strip her and take her right there in the restaurant.

She dragged a trembling hand across her mouth and tried to catch her breath.

"I know it's … been awhile since I –" she broke off. "What _was_ that?"

"You felt it too?"

Ryan's chest was rising and falling quickly too, but she thought he looked a whole lot more in control than she felt. Then again, he probably hadn't gone without close physical contact for the majority of the past seven years.

She gave a short nod. "I felt it."

He seemed to be regaining his composure; he raked a hand through his hair and gave her a sidelong smile. "I don't know, Kathryn. I guess we're just … extremely compatible."

She choked out a laugh. "I guess so."

"So I'll call you tomorrow."

Kathryn twined her fingers in her wrap, holding it together over her chest. "Tomorrow," she repeated. "Good night, Ryan."

"Good night, Kathryn," he replied, and she activated her transporter, suddenly relieved that she was heading home to solitude and order.

===0===

"So what's this I hear about the two of you inventing some new astrometric array that can find a needle in a haystack?" Tom Paris asked, gently turning a milk-drunk Miral against his shoulder. "We ran into Tal Celes last week and she couldn't stop talking about it."

"It sounds impressive," B'Elanna chimed in. "What did Tal say – it works on a gravimetric oscillation principle? If we'd had something like that in the Delta, we might've been able to find a wormhole and get home even sooner."

Harry Kim shrugged modestly. "It was Seven's design that made it possible."

"Lieutenant Kim is exaggerating. Without his input, we never would have developed the new sensor configuration."

"How many times do I have to ask you to call me Harry?"

"Apparently, more times than you have already asked me, Lieutenant," Seven replied with a trace of a smile.

Tom and B'Elanna exchanged a silent, loaded glance as their lunch companions continued to banter. It was clear that the past few months of working closely together had turned Harry and Seven's previously professional relationship into something more familiar, and B'Elanna was torn.

Her long-held antipathy for Seven had muted into respect and even a grudging, slightly competitive friendship, and she had often thought that Harry was a much better match for the former Borg than Chakotay. But Chakotay was one of her oldest friends, and if Seven broke his heart or hurt him in any way, B'Elanna would personally rip the blonde woman's elegant throat out.

Not for the first time, she wondered just how deeply Chakotay's feelings ran for Seven. The chemistry between Seven and Harry was exponentially more evident than the lukewarm regard she thought she saw in Chakotay's eyes when she saw him and Seven together.

B'Elanna's thoughts wandered to the last time she'd seen Chakotay with their former captain. It had been a couple of days before their untimely trip back to the Alpha quadrant, and the elder Admiral Janeway – the one from a future that now would never be – had been aboard _Voyager_. B'Elanna had been at her upper workstation in Engineering, running some calculations on _Voyager_ 's new shielding, when she heard voices – hushed and livid – from the level below.

She'd glanced down and seen the captain and Chakotay glaring at each other, their body language clearly combative despite their lowered voices. All she heard was a snatch of Chakotay's words: "… insane plan? … keeping secrets from me again, Kathryn," and the captain's terse reply – "Then we make a fine pair, don't we, Commander?" before she turned and stalked away.

Chakotay had stared after her, jaw set and eyes hot, raking a frustrated hand through his hair before he growled softly and marched off in the opposite direction. And even then – when they were so obviously at odds – B'Elanna remembered more heat crackling between them than she'd ever observed between Chakotay and Seven, even on the one occasion she'd been unable to avoid seeing them kiss.

And on the day of Miral's birth she'd expected Janeway to visit her in Sickbay, but Chakotay had turned up alone and obviously unsettled. She had thought then that he was just shell-shocked from their trip through the Borg conduit, but she wondered now if that had been the moment of the final break between him and Janeway. Because they certainly hadn't spoken since –

"Earth to B'Elanna," Tom drawled lazily, and she snapped back into focus to find the three of them watching her.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "Lost in thought."

Seven pushed back her chair and stood. "If you will excuse me, I must return to the _Mehit_. It has been pleasant dining with you, Commanders."

"Call me Tom."

Harry snorted. "Good luck with that. See you back there in an hour, Seven. I have to run a couple of errands first."

"Very well, Lieu- _Harry_ ," Seven corrected herself, one corner of her full mouth lifting as Harry grinned back at her in delight. His gaze followed her as she walked away.

Tom and B'Elanna exchanged another glance, full of shared meaning.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," sighed Tom. "What are we going to do with you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't get defensive, Starfleet," B'Elanna chimed in. "It's obvious you're still holding an Olympic-sized torch for our Borg queen."

"Don't call her that," Kim scowled. "And I'm not."

"Whatever you say, _Lieutenant_ ," smirked Paris.

"Can we talk about something else?"

"Actually," B'Elanna relented, "I was just thinking about Janeway. She hasn't returned my last few messages, or Tom's. I don't suppose you or Seven have heard from her?"

Harry shook his head. "I haven't spoken to her since her promotion ceremony. As far as I know, Seven hasn't heard from her either."

"Neither has Chakotay," B'Elanna muttered.

"Doesn't that seem sad to you?" Kim asked. "I mean, they were so close."

" _Were_ being the operative word." Paris rubbed his daughter's back as Miral snuffled sleepily into his shoulder. "I guess that all changed when he and Seven hooked up."

"That's not Seven's fault," Harry shot back.

"It's not _all_ her fault," B'Elanna conceded. "Chakotay has to take at least half the blame. Idiot," she added under her breath.

This time it was Tom and Harry who exchanged a glance. B'Elanna noticed.

"Okay, okay," she raised her hands, "if he wants to make stupid life decisions I can't stop him. So, Harry, since you're apparently not interested in Seven, who's your latest inappropriate crush? Please don't tell me it's Tal Celes."

Kim rolled his eyes as he scraped his chair back from the table and stood. "It's been great catching up. See you next time you're bored and need someone to pick on."

He bent to place a kiss on Miral's dark head and another on B'Elanna's cheek before he walked away.

"She's an idiot, too," B'Elanna said speculatively, watching Harry leave. "I hope she realises what she's missing out on before it's too late."

"Who?" Tom asked her. "Seven or Janeway?"

"Both."

===0===

"Good morning, Admiral." Lieutenant Jens rose from behind her desk in the anteroom, moving smoothly to keep pace with Kathryn as she swept into her office. "I have today's schedule for you. There's only one change – Admiral Kjogo wants to see you at 1100 hours, so I've pushed back your personal training session to 1600."

Kathryn paused in the act of switching on her monitor to glance up at her aide. "Did the admiral say why she wants to meet?"

"No, ma'am." Jens handed her a padd. "Your messages."

"Thanks."

Kathryn flicked through them, ignoring the majority, and paused at a short note from Admiral Paris asking if she was free for lunch sometime that century. She looked up at Jens, who stood poker-straight with her hands clasped behind her back. Kathryn was momentarily struck by her aide's resemblance to Seven of Nine; Tora's hair, though walnut-brown instead of blonde, was pulled back in the chignon Seven had favoured on _Voyager_ , and with her large blue eyes, full lips and slender limbs, she could have been Seven's cousin. A wave of nostalgia and longing swept through her, forcing Kathryn to clear her throat and blink rapidly.

"Lieutenant, could you find a lunch opening in my calendar for Owen Paris?" She forced her voice steady. "The sooner the better, please."

"Of course. Can I get you a coffee?"

Kathryn managed a brief smile. "You have to ask?"

Jens strode out to the anteroom, returning with a fresh, steaming cup which Kathryn lifted gratefully, closing her eyes as she inhaled the steam. When she opened her eyes, her aide was grinning at her.

"What?"

"Just," Tora shook her head, "the look on your face. It makes me want to give up sex in favour of coffee."

Kathryn choked on the sip she'd just taken, and Jens laughed. "Sorry, Admiral, but surely I'm not the first person to comment on that?"

"Actually, my first officer –" she caught herself, shifting her gaze away. "No, I guess you aren't the first."

"Well, I'll leave you two alone." Tora backed toward the door, still smirking. "Call me if you need anything."

The door slid closed behind her, and Kathryn leaned back in her chair, her mood turned sour.

She worked steadily for the next few hours on an analysis of the revised Japori-Federation trade agreement – she was scheduled to meet the Japori ambassador the following day, and fully intended to quiz her about her request for increased Starfleet presence on their trade routes – until Jens poked her head around the doorway. "It's almost 1100 hours, Admiral."

Kathryn couldn't quite suppress a sigh. Straightening her hair and steeling her spine, she took the 'lift to Kjogo's palatial office on the top floor of the building.

"Admiral Janeway to see Fleet Admiral Kjogo," she informed the lieutenant manning the desk.

"Yes, ma'am. If you'll take a seat, the admiral will see you shortly."

 _Take a seat_ , Kathryn thought darkly. _I guess even the hero of the Delta quadrant occasionally gets treated like a wayward child waiting to see the schoolmaster_. Smirking to herself, she activated her padd and continued working on her analysis while she waited.

And waited.

It wasn't until after her third, increasingly unamused query to the blond lieutenant at the desk that she was finally summoned into the admiral's inner sanctum.

"Oh, there you are, Kathryn," Kjogo said absently, but it was a further five minutes before she put down her padd and turned her attention to her visitor.

Kathryn stood and stared at her, forcibly keeping her annoyance in check.

"Well, you look a little happier this morning," Kjogo remarked frankly after thoroughly glancing her over. "If I had to guess, I'd say you enjoyed your date last night."

"My date?" Kathryn said faintly. "How did you know?"

"Did you really think I wouldn't hear about it? Ryan Austin, entrepreneur, son of the late Admiral Bart Austin." Kjogo appraised her, then shrugged. "You could do worse. He's photogenic, charismatic, and he's successful enough to give the press hounds something to write about."

Kathryn's jaw dropped. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm giving you my blessing, Kathryn. Actually, I'm quite impressed. It's about time you enjoyed a little romance, and Mr Austin is an appropriate partner for you. Yes, I think the pair of you will play well in the media."

"I –" she shook her head in disbelief. "Admiral, this is a step too far. My private life is not up for public consumption."

"Please don't make me go through this again – it's becoming tiresome. You're a public figure now, like it or not, and everything you do will come under scrutiny. The spotlight is your friend, but only if you know how to influence it. Don't forget that, not even for a moment. Which reminds me, Kathryn…" Kjogo stood, ushering her toward the door, "your former crew have been quite irritatingly persistent in their attempts to claim your time and energy. I instructed Lieutenant Jens to keep their distraction to a minimum, but I wanted to make sure you also understand the need to continue to distance yourself from them."

Kathryn slowed her tread, digging her heels into the soft carpet. "Distance myself? Admiral, I haven't seen a single member of my crew in weeks. How much more distant could I get?"

" _Former_ crew," Kjogo emphasised.

"And what do you mean, you instructed Tora to keep them away from me?"

"They're a millstone around your neck. Particularly that Maquis of yours – Jens tells me he's been quite tenacious. Still, his new job should keep him out of your way, which is good. We don't want the paparazzi starting any of the wrong kind of rumours." Kjogo all but pushed her out the door. "Make sure Austin takes you somewhere a little more public on your next date, won't you? And don't forget to smile for the cameras."

Before she could gather her outrage to formulate a reply, the door slid closed in Kathryn's face.


	5. Imperium Ludum

You're the only one who comes when I call

You're the only one who comes when I'm lonely for you  
When I'm lonely for you …

All that I need is  
Sweet escape

– Dean Lewis, _Need You Now_

===0===

 _ **Chapter Four: Imperium Ludum**_

 _September, 2378_

Chakotay had made several more attempts to contact Kathryn since he'd seen the news images of her on Tau Ceti Prime. But when he still hadn't heard from her almost two months later, he told himself to accept the fact that she didn't want him in her life.

It was fortunate that he was so busy he barely had time to eat or sleep, let alone brood.

His undercover team consisted of Ensign Kelar, a Vulcan communications expert, and Lieutenant Tilly Davis, a Nova Squadron pilot who'd graduated from the same Advanced Tactics course Chakotay used to teach. The two team members had hitched a ride to Midrian, where Davis had purchased a shuttle and posed as a small-time goods courier, picking up small trade runs through the Borderlands in the hope of attracting attention from the wrong kind of people.

By the end of August, Chakotay had received word that Davis had managed to scan the Celendi Nebula and locate a small space station in orbit of a Class H planet, deep inside the gas cloud. For such a remote and inaccessible location, that spaceport saw a lot of traffic.

Chakotay was studying the sensor logs Kelar had relayed back from Davis' shuttle when he glanced up to find an unfamiliar man in civilian wear leaning in his office doorway. Startled, he almost dropped his cup of tea.

"How did you get in here?"

The man offered him a smile; Chakotay doubted its sincerity. "Hello, Captain Chakotay. It's nice to make your acquaintance at last."

Chakotay got to his feet. "Who are you?"

"My name is Jonah Miles." The man uncoiled himself from the doorframe and walked toward him, hand held out in greeting. "I let myself in. I hope you don't mind."

"Actually, I do." Chakotay ignored the outstretched hand, sizing the man up. He was somewhat unassuming; slight, several centimetres shorter than Chakotay, with mid-brown hair and hazel eyes. "This is a secure building. I'll need to see your Starfleet identification and confirm your security clearance."

The man laughed a little. "I'm not with Starfleet, Captain, and you can only dream of a security clearance as high as mine. Perhaps we should sit down so I can explain why I'm here."

"I don't think so," Chakotay answered evenly, reaching for the comm key on his console. "I'll have to contact Starfleet Security and have you taken into custody."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you." Jonah Miles' voice remained pleasant. "Touch that console and I'm afraid I'll have to break your arm."

Chakotay sent him a disbelieving stare and tapped the key. "Chakotay to Security. Send a team to –"

He never finished his sentence. Jonah Miles moved so fast he was a blur, and the next thing Chakotay knew he was on his knees, left arm twisted behind his back, Miles' foot on his neck. Miles gave his arm a slight push and Chakotay wheezed in pain.

"Ready to listen, Mr Chakotay?" Miles asked amiably.

"What the hell do you want?" he gritted out.

Miles eased up on the pressure. "I want to talk to you. I have no intention of doing you harm. I simply have a proposal that I think you might find interesting." He paused. "If I let you up, will you hear me out?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really," Miles said pleasantly. He released his grip and Chakotay straightened up, rubbing his aching shoulder. "Take a seat."

Grudgingly, Chakotay hauled himself to his feet and dropped into his desk chair. Miles seated himself neatly opposite.

"All right, you've got my attention. Now tell me what you want."

"I want to help you, Captain. Your tactics are sound, but your team out there in the Borderlands is going to fail because you don't have nearly enough information."

Chakotay went still. "How the hell do you know about that? It's classified –"

"I told you," Miles interrupted, "I have a very high clearance. Now, if you'll permit me to continue?"

Chakotay gave a short nod.

"Your investigation of the Fermola miners will lead nowhere, because those insurgents have either been disposed of or absorbed into a much larger and more powerful organisation. We know it as the Entera Coalition."

"Who's 'we'?"

"I'll get to that. We believe whoever is behind Entera intends to control not only the interstellar trade routes, but the politics of Cardassia, Qo'noS, Romulus and Earth. A lofty goal, you might say, but an attainable one if you have influence over the right people. If you control the flow of supplies you control the economics, and therefore the politics."

Chakotay shook his head in disbelief. "And you think this is all down to a single megalomaniac?"

"Don't be naïve, Captain. It's not called a coalition for nothing – this alliance is made up of a number of very powerful people with equally powerful friends."

"Why are you telling me all this? What do you want?"

"We have information and resources that Starfleet doesn't, and we're prepared to share them with you to progress your investigation. We can work from behind the scenes, but recruiting you would lend us a certain … respectability, shall we say? Your current position and your background make you the ideal person for this mission."

"Recruiting me?" Chakotay watched him evenly. "I think it's time you told me who you are."

"Very well." Miles hooked one leg over the opposite knee. "I represent an autonomous agency with broad-ranging intelligence and defensive authority. We investigate, and deal with, threats to the integrity and security of the Federation."

"An autonomous agency?" Chakotay leaned forward. "You're describing the functions delegated to Starfleet Intelligence, Mr Miles. How, exactly, does your agency – whoever you are – deal with threats to Federation security?"

"In whichever manner is most expedient, Captain. We aren't bound by the regulations and protocols laid out in the Federation Charter, though it does contain provision for the agency I represent. However, the agency's origins are unimportant. What's of interest here is how we can help you."

"You're serious," Chakotay said slowly, studying him. "You're talking about an organisation that goes beyond black ops and into the realm of the Obsidian Order, Mr Miles. I can't believe Starfleet would allow such an agency to exist."

Jonah Miles smiled at him. "Officially, Starfleet doesn't know about us, because officially we don't exist. In reality we have quite a number of Starfleet officers in our ranks, as well as many talented civilians. We've been observing you, and several others from _Voyager_ 's crew, for some time, in fact, with the intention of recruiting you."

"And you selected me because of my current post?"

"In part."

"Have you attempted to coerce anyone else from _Voyager_ into joining your secret police?"

"There's no need for aggression, Captain. We're on your side."

"Just answer the question."

"I'm afraid I can't – for your own protection, and that of the agency."

"I see." Chakotay folded his arms. "Well, Mr Miles, I have no intention of joining your agency, so here's a proposal for you. You tell me everything you know about the Entera Coalition and your little secret organisation, and I'll consider not handing you over to Security."

"Really, Captain, I'd hoped for a little less obstinacy from a former Maquis. You won't have anything to hand over to Starfleet Security, because the moment I leave this office you'll discover that there's no evidence I was ever here. So could we dispense with the posturing and get down to business?"

"Okay, I'll bite. What do you want?"

"We want you to infiltrate Entera."

"I already have a covert team on that mission. As you well know."

"And as I've just explained, your team is blundering in the dark. You, however, can forge the proper connections with our help. You'll start by appearing to investigate Entera through your official position with Intelligence. As time goes on, you'll begin to see the appeal of joining the Coalition – power, wealth, influence – and you'll perform whatever tasks they assign to you in order to work your way through the echelons. You'll have to retain your post, of course, and feed just enough information back to Starfleet to satisfy your superiors that you're doing your job, as well as sharing intelligence data with Entera to assuage their suspicions of you. Meanwhile, you'll keep me fully informed. At such time as my agency decides we have enough information to shut Entera down, you'll be excused from our service."

"Shut Entera down," Chakotay repeated. "You mean, you're going to find out whoever's behind it and assassinate them."

Miles inclined his head. "If need be."

"And why would I get involved in this?"

"Because if you don't, Captain, people you care about are going to die."

===0===

Kathryn Janeway stormed into her office suite and came to an abrupt standstill at her aide's desk. "Lieutenant Jens, my office. Now."

Tora Jens rose from her seat, standing at ease just inside the door as Kathryn paced before her.

"I've just come from seeing Admiral Kjogo," Kathryn grated, steel glaring into Jens' blue eyes. "Imagine my surprise when she informed me that you've been intercepting messages from my crew."

Jens lowered her eyelashes. "I was under orders, ma'am."

"Oh, I'm aware of that, and it's the only reason I'm not kicking you out on your ass this minute." Kathryn folded her arms. "But from now on, you either work for me or you don't. If you choose to stay, you keep nothing from me. If you can't do that I'll find myself a new aide. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Admiral."

"Good. I want to see every communication you've received from every member of my crew since you started working in this office. Now."

"I'll send them to your console immediately."

Jens turned to leave, then swivelled back to face Kathryn. Her lips were pressed together and she was visibly agitated.

"What is it?" Kathryn demanded.

"Intercepting your messages was wrong, and I'm sorry," Tora rushed in. "But I think Admiral Kjogo had your best interests at heart. She told me she was concerned for your personal security."

Kathryn's eyebrows rose. "So she asked you to protect me from what? My former crewmates? The ones I'd served with for the past seven years and trust with my life?"

"When you put it like that, it sounds questionable," Jens mumbled. She cleared her throat. "But Admiral, I do agree that you need to be kept safe, and sometimes –"

"Sometimes … what?" Kathryn's voice had taken on a dangerous edge.

Tora straightened. "Sometimes you take risks with your own safety," she answered. "For example, what do you know about Mr Austin? Have you had him vetted? Because I'd be happy to arrange –"

"Stop right there, Lieutenant."

Wisely, Jens shut up. Kathryn faced away from her, struggling with her temper, before turning back to address her aide in a tone that could have stripped duranium.

"Let's get one thing straight," Kathryn ground out. "My personal life and the people I choose to spend time with are none of your concern, and they are _certainly_ none of Admiral Kjogo's. All I need to know about Mr Austin is what he chooses to share with me. And all _you_ need to know about him, Lieutenant, is that my relationship with him is none of your business. _Do you understand me_?"

Tora swallowed visibly. "Yes ma'am. I understand."

"In that case," Kathryn jerked her head at the door, "dismissed."

Alone, she lowered herself onto her desk chair and rubbed her temples, deliberately tamping down the fury that had been building ever since Kjogo's incredible revelation. Her console chirruped and she scanned the list of messages Jens had kept from her over the past several months. Unsurprisingly, they'd petered out as time passed. She wondered how many of her former crew now thought her a social climber who had no time for the people who'd once been her family.

It hurt.

"Computer, filter messages by sender and display only those from Commander – I mean, Captain Chakotay."

 _11 messages from sender Captain Chakotay_ , the computer displayed.

The most recent one was from a couple of weeks ago. With a trepidation she couldn't quite reconcile, Kathryn pressed 'play'.

 _Hello, Kathryn_.

She sucked in a breath as his once-so-familiar face lit up the screen. He'd let the grey come back in at his temples and his face was leaner, his shoulders bulkier in the uniform; clearly, he'd taken care to get himself into his best shape since their return. The dark circles were long gone from under his eyes and his skin glowed with health. He looked so good it made her heart ache.

 _I know how busy you must be_ , Chakotay continued onscreen. _And I guess I'm a bit slow on the uptake, but it's pretty clear you prefer to leave our friendship back on_ Voyager. _So I won't contact you again, Kathryn. But I want you to know that if you ever need me for anything, all you have to do is call_.

He glanced down, tugging his ear, then up again with a small smile. _I hope you'll call. I miss you_. He hesitated, then placed his hand on the screen, fingers slightly curled as though she could twine her own into them. _Goodbye, Kathryn_.

Just as she reached out to touch the screen, his image faded to black.

"Computer, open a comm channel to Captain –" she began, but the computer interrupted her.

~Incoming call for Admiral Kathryn Janeway.~

"Who's the caller?"

~Ryan Austin.~

"Damn it," she swore involuntarily, refusing to analyse her disappointment. "On screen."

Ryan's handsome face beamed at her from the small monitor. ~Kathryn. How are you?~

"Hi." She couldn't help smiling back at him, blushing as she remembered last night's incredible kiss.

~Are you busy tonight?~

She blinked. "You don't waste time. Let me check…" she glanced quickly at her schedule, then shook her head. "Looks like I'm free. What did you have in mind?"

~Well, I don't know if it's your scene, but I have theatre tickets for the premiere of _Golden Shadows_ tonight. Have you heard of it? It's by a new Andorian playwright who's been winning awards all over the place.~

"I haven't seen a play in years," Kathryn admitted. "I'd love to go with you."

~I was hoping you'd say that. I'll pick you up at eight. Wear something stunning.~ Ryan's eyes grew warm. ~And maybe afterwards we could go to this little bar I know. They make the best cocktails in San Francisco.~

"I can't wait," Kathryn answered, and Ryan grinned at her as he signed off.

She eased back in her chair, allowing herself to daydream for a moment about tall, attractive near-strangers and heated kisses. About the novelty and excitement of being courted; the pleasure of getting to know somebody new.

Then she thought about Chakotay, and about untangling the complicated threads of a friendship so infused with shared history and unspoken feeling. About pretending she felt nothing more than friendship for him, while enduring the torment of having her heart ripped freshly open every time she saw him.

She wasn't sure she had the strength to do it anymore; not with her life the way it was now. She needed all her emotional fortitude just to deal with the crazy hours and the politics and the isolation, not to mention Admiral Kjogo. And though it physically hurt, deep in the pit of her stomach, to contemplate her life without Chakotay in it, she wondered if a clean break wouldn't be kindest in the long run.

After all, she couldn't rely on him twenty-four-seven anymore. He had other commitments.

Swallowing hard, Kathryn ordered the computer to delete Chakotay's unread, unanswered messages.

===0===

"Computer, open a secure line to Sekaya of Trebus. Encrypt communications."

It took a few minutes before his screen flickered to life and Chakotay's sister was grinning at him, hair tangled, a chubby baby sleeping in her arms.

~Hello there, big brother.~

"Sekaya," he said, relieved. "It's good to see you well."

~And you too. How's Seven?~

"She's fine. Busy working on a new starship. Listen, Sekky, I need to talk to you. Are you alone?"

~Yes, except for Shiye here, but he doesn't talk much.~

Chakotay laughed. "He's grown so much since Seven and I visited."

~Babies do. What is it you need to talk about, Amal?~

"I was wondering if you'd had an influx of new settlers recently."

Sekaya grimaced. ~How did you know? A group of Trialans and Regulans came two months ago to scout the northern continent. According to Nata they've found a dilithium mine, but you know how trustworthy she is.~

"In this case, she may be telling the truth. Sekaya, I want you to stay clear of those miners. I doubt they have Trebus' best interests at heart."

~What are you not telling me, brother?~ Sekaya narrowed her eyes at him.

"I can't tell you much," Chakotay said reluctantly. "But there's a new trade empire based in the Borderlands and their intentions are dubious. I have it on good authority that the miners from the Borderlands worlds might be intending to use Trebus as a secondary base of operations to extend their influence into the Cardassian Union."

' _Good authority' might be stretching it a bit_ , he conceded silently. He didn't trust Jonah Miles as far as he could throw him.

Sekaya looked alarmed. ~They told the elders they only planned to stay for a few months, and asked permission to conduct scouting surveys. If they really have found a pure source of dilithium they'll never leave Trebus.~

"And they'll do whatever they can to force our people off the planet," Chakotay agreed grimly.

Sekaya swore under her breath. ~If it's not the spoonheads or the 'fleeters, it's the merchants. Why can't they all just leave us be?~

"I'll have a Starfleet patrol sent out," Chakotay promised. "And call me immediately the moment you get a whiff of any kind of trouble."

~I will. I'll let the elders know what's going on, as well.~

"Take care of yourself, sister."

~And you,~ Sekaya said softly, signing off.

Chakotay leaned back in his chair.

So Jonah Miles had told the truth about what was happening on Trebus, at least. He still didn't trust the man, but Miles had certainly known which buttons to push.

He tapped his console and entered the complex code Miles had provided to him.

~Captain,~ Miles greeted him when the comm channel opened. ~Can I assume you're calling to accept our offer?~

"Against my better judgement, yes," Chakotay said shortly. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

===0===

"Wow," Ryan said as Kathryn opened her apartment door. " _Wow_."

She couldn't stop the smirk twisting her lips. "Okay, I was going for stunning, like you asked, but _wow_ will do nicely."

"I actually think I've run out of superlatives," he answered as she shrugged a wrap on over the 'wow' dress. It was creamy and silky and softly-draped and it made her feel incredible, and she was perhaps overly pleased that it had had the desired effect on her date. She slipped her hand through the crook of Ryan's arm as he led her to the waiting hovercab.

Bulbs flashed as they emerged at the theatre. Kathryn's first instinct was to duck and run, but remembering Kjogo's admonishment, she straightened instead, smiling for the cameras as Ryan ushered her inside. "Sorry about that," she murmured when they were seated in their private box. "I should've guessed there would be paparazzi here on opening night."

"Don't worry about it," he said easily. "I made sure they got my good side."

She laughed.

The lights dimmed and the play began, and it was utterly terrible except for Ryan's sarcastically muttered asides, which kept her grinning until the curtain fell.

"Do you feel like a drink?" Ryan looped her hand through his arm as they left the theatre, leaning in close. "That bar I mentioned earlier is only a couple of blocks from here."

"So is my place," Kathryn found herself saying. "Why don't you come over for a nightcap instead?"

His slow smile sparked a warmth low in her belly, strange and familiar all at once, and for a moment she faltered. She knew what would happen if she invited him up to her apartment. Was that what she wanted?

 _Yes_ , she decided immediately, defiantly. _Yes, it is_.

So she wound her fingers into his as they walked the short distance to her building, and when they stepped inside she didn't move to the drinks cabinet, but rose up on tiptoe to kiss him instead.

 _God_ , she thought deliriously as every nerve sparked and came alive. _If this is what it's like to kiss him, how am I going to survive what happens next?_

Then Ryan's hands coiled into her hair as his lips moved along her throat, and she stopped thinking.

===0===

Jonah Miles had suggested that Chakotay's first step toward infiltrating the Entera Coalition should be to make himself known to them.

Midrian, the same planet on the outskirts of the Borderlands where his trainees had begun their own undercover mission, hosted a busy spaceport where Ensign Kelar had scanned dozens of ships that, he had reported to Chakotay, he suspected of running illegal cargo to the Cardassian Union. Nothing he could prove – just some unusual sensor readings, and the fact that those ships always followed the routes Starfleet had no authority to patrol – but it seemed clear that the Midrian government was turning a blind eye.

A stop-and-search operation was out of the question, but given what Miles had told Chakotay about the suspected breadth of Entera – information which Chakotay had passed up the line – the sensor data couldn't be ignored. So Chakotay informed Admiral Paris that he felt Kelar and Lieutenant Davis needed on-site backup, and that he'd be travelling to the Borderlands under the guise of an official meeting with a counterpart from Klingon Imperial Intelligence. He wasn't sure the cluey old admiral believed him, but Paris had shrugged and said "It's your mission."

It wasn't until he'd finished packing and was back at HQ, ready to beam to the shuttle he'd been assigned, that he realised with an unpleasant jolt he hadn't informed his girlfriend of his plans.

Shamefaced, he stepped off the transporter pad and headed for Seven's office across the gardens.

"… increase power to the imaging relays?" he could hear as he approached the doorway, which stood open onto the corridor.

"Unlikely," Seven's cool voice replied. "I believe we've maximised the sensor resolution, Lieutenant."

" _Harry_ ," the other voice corrected with exaggerated patience. "C'mon, Seven, how many years have we known each other? I keep telling you it's okay for you to call me by name instead of rank."

Chakotay stopped at the doorway, watching Seven shift on her feet. The pair of them stood at a console before the enormous screen in the lab, their backs to the door. He was about to enter, call out a greeting, but something about their body language made him pause and watch them closely.

"We're working," Seven was saying. "Your rank is more appropriate."

He watched as Harry Kim nudged her gently and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I won't tell if you don't."

And Seven blushed – _blushed_ – and lowered her eyelashes. "If you insist," she murmured, "Harry."

"That's better," Harry grinned. His hand clasped her shoulder briefly then dropped to his side as he turned back to the viewscreen. Seven remained with her body twisted toward him. Her expression was soft.

Then she returned her attention to her console, and Chakotay stepped silently away from the door.

He'd leave her a message instead, he decided.

===0===

As much as Kathryn secretly longed to defy Admiral Kjogo in any small way she could, she couldn't help but notice that her life became so much easier when she fell into line.

Kjogo strongly approved of her dating Ryan Austin, and especially of the positive press the two of them received whenever they appeared together. In response, she'd allowed Kathryn to excuse herself from many of the tedious diplomatic functions Kjogo had previously insisted she attend, and had increased the work she sent Kathryn's way – work that Kathryn actually felt had value and importance. She'd spent the past week immersed in working up a new treaty between the Federation and the Midrian government and was booked on a tour of their dilithium mining facilities the following week.

It was ironic, Kathryn mused, that just as she found something interesting to do with her working days, her personal life had taken such an exhilarating turn. In fact the only thing troubling her was the stress-headaches that had become annoyingly frequent of late.

Fortunately, she'd found an excellent cure for them.

Stretching luxuriantly, she felt her skin rub against the warm, solid male body in bed beside her, and Ryan's eyes cracked half-open as his hand wandered over to stroke her ribcage. "Morning," he murmured sleepily.

"Morning," she replied, voice husky.

His eyes opened further as his hand started to move with purpose, stroking the underside of her breast. She caught the gleam in his eye as he watched her nipple pucker and tighten and trailed the tips of his fingers over it, making her catch her breath.

"I have a meeting this morning," she reminded him.

"So be late," he said softly, rising up over her, trapping her with arms either side of her head.

"I can't –"

He cut her off with a dip of his head and a slow swipe of his tongue over her nipple. Her back arched and she tried to stifle a moan.

"They'll wait for you," he assured her, planting a trail of nips and kisses over her collarbone and along her throat as she tilted her head to encourage him.

"I suppose they will," she found herself saying, and she spread her thighs under him, curling her ankles around his back.

Ryan grinned, taking her earlobe between his teeth. "That's my girl."

"Hey," she managed, not quite outraged.

"What?" He smirked down at her, moving his hips against her in a way that made her lower body turn to liquid. "You are my girl, aren't you?"

"That's a very old-fashioned and sexist –"

He kissed her, cutting her off again, and for a moment she thought about pushing him off her. But then his fingers were reaching down and sliding deliciously inside her, and all thought fled as he played her body with a skill she found herself completely unable to resist.


	6. False Steps

But you didn't have to cut me off  
Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing  
And I don't even need your love  
But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough

– Gotye, _Somebody That I Used To Know_

===0===

 _ **Chapter Five: False Steps**_

 _October, 2378_

Chakotay's reconnaissance mission to Midrian was less than fruitful.

Jonah Miles wanted him to make himself visible to the Entera Coalition in the hope they'd recruit him, which directly conflicted with Starfleet Intelligence's expectation that he would lay low and provide covert support to his undercover team. For the first week he divided his time between his dingy hotel room in Midrian's capital city and conspicuous contact with T'Char, the Klingon intelligence agent he had arranged to meet.

During his second week there he began venturing out to the local bars. He ordered the local brews and was amenable to conversations. Federation politics was a common topic in the region, and Chakotay was asked more than once for his opinion on President Zife and his recent trade agreement with Midrian. Uncertain where Entera's interests lay on the matter, he glossed over it and took the opportunity to complain about the Orion Syndicate's stranglehold on the region instead.

On his third night frequenting the bar scene he started noticing eyes sliding away from him when he turned on his stool.

But nobody approached him, and Lieutenant Davis conveyed, via Kelar, that she'd made only minimal headway in infiltrating any of the trade consortiums in the region. A single human shuttle pilot, she reported, was not important enough to stir much interest and was viewed with suspicion-tinged disdain.

A corruptible Starfleet captain, Chakotay conceded, might offer a more tempting target, but he'd have to play it exactly right. He'd laid the bait, and now he would have to let it lie.

He headed back to Earth.

The air in his apartment felt stale. He showered and changed, then, still shaking off the restless solitude of Midrian, commed Seven to see if she was free for dinner.

She wasn't; she was fine-tuning the Borg-enhanced sensors in the _Mehit_ 's astrometrics lab and expected to be working all night. There was an apologetic note in her voice, but his slightly annoyed suggestion that after three weeks' separation she should be more enthused about spending time with him only seemed to irritate her.

~I'm very busy,~ she told him, a frown creasing her brow. ~Lieutenant Kim and I have been testing a new gravimetric sensor configuration that will allow us to more easily detect subspace instabilities, and I believe we're about to make a breakthrough.~

"Harry's there with you, huh?" Chakotay kept his tone even.

~Of course.~ Seven's face softened slightly. ~However, I've been invited to a celebratory function at the Palace Hotel this Friday night. Would you accompany me?~

"What kind of celebration?"

~Fleet Admiral Shanthi will be publicly announcing a new line of science and exploratory vessels, to be fitted with the enhanced astrometrics array Lieutenant Kim and I have devised. I'm told some of the _Voyager_ crew will be in attendance.~

"Then I wouldn't miss it."

She offered him a full-lipped smile and signed off, and Chakotay sighed and resigned himself to another night alone.

===0===

" _Ryan_ ," hissed Kathryn as his fingers drifted over her ribcage again. "We're at an official function."

"Can I help it if you look so fucking sexy that I can't stop touching you?" he murmured in her ear.

Kathryn moved the wandering hand again. "Try," she deadpanned. "I'd rather not give Kjogo any more reason to chastise me."

But she couldn't stifle a small smile as Ryan grumblingly moved his hand away from her exposed side and onto the fabric that covered her hip. After seven years as the chaste captain of a starship, it was a stimulating change to be with someone so insatiable for her.

She just wished this night was over so they could go home and do something about it.

Ryan's fingers glided upward again, tucking into the low-cut side of her dress and circling dangerously close to her barely-covered breast, making her shiver and bite her lip.

"Think anyone would notice if we ducked into the cloakroom for a quickie?" Ryan murmured.

"Don't tempt me," she sighed, then snapped upright as Fleet Admiral Shanthi approached. Ryan's hand slipped onto the small of her back and Kathryn pasted on her best professional smile.

"Good evening, Kathryn, Mr Austin." Taela Shanthi smiled at her. "I'm pleased you could make it tonight."

 _As if I had a choice_ , Kathryn thought. Nyla Kjogo had ordered her to attend; the press would be out in force. Naturally.

"I'm honoured to have been invited, Admiral."

"Well, I'd think you wouldn't miss it, considering two of your former crew are part of the reason we're all here." Shanthi laughed.

"I beg your pardon?"

"We wouldn't be installing these astrometrics arrays on ships of the line without Lieutenant Kim and Seven of Nine. They've been instrumental in designing these sensors for the _Hawking_ -class starships. Those two are quite a pair."

Kathryn had gone still. "Yes, they are," she answered woodenly. Her eyes darted over Shanthi's shoulder and her throat closed over. There was Harry, looking dashing in his dinner suit, and beside him was Seven, statuesque in a shimmering violet dress.

Following her gaze, Admiral Shanthi turned and gestured to the pair. Kim's face lit up at the sight of his former captain and he bounded over. "Cap- Admiral! It's so good to see you," he enthused, taking her hand in both of his.

"Hello, Harry." Kathryn squeezed his hands in return, her smile unfurling at the sight of him. But she couldn't help her gaze straying to Harry's companion.

"Admiral," Seven said warmly. "You look well."

 _Oh Seven, how I've missed you_ , Kathryn thought, and hard on its heels, _please tell me you didn't bring a date_.

Squaring her shoulders, she forced her smile to brighten.

"You too, Seven." Kathryn released Harry's hands, clasping her own behind her back. "I understand you and Harry have become quite the asset to Starfleet."

Harry slung an arm over Seven's shoulder, grinning. "Let's hear it for Borg ingenuity."

Kathryn noticed that Seven's cheekbones coloured a little as Harry pulled her against his side. "Your contribution was equally important, Lieutenant Kim."

" _Harry_ ," the man in question emphasised, rolling his eyes.

"Well, congratulations," Kathryn offered. "If I was captaining a ship of exploration I'd want one with sensors designed by you two." She couldn't help the wistful note in her voice.

"Speaking of captains…" Harry turned to crane his neck over the crowd, then raised a hand in the air. "Here he is."

 _Oh, God_ , Kathryn thought as Chakotay shouldered his way through the crowd and she realised she was about to see him in person for the first time in nine months.

He looked so good. The jacket fitted his broad shoulders perfectly and her fingers itched to straighten his slightly-askew bow tie. Kathryn dug deep to find her most impenetrable mask, knowing she'd need it to get through this.

Chakotay emerged on Harry's other side, saying, "Seven, I'm sorry, I got waylaid talking to –"

Then he saw her and the words died on his lips.

===0===

Chakotay barely stopped himself from swearing aloud.

There she was. Her hair was caught loosely at her nape, her lithe body was clothed in something black, silky and – he tried hard to close his mouth – far more revealing than anything he'd ever seen her in before, and she looked so beautiful he had to fight not to reach out and touch her.

And she was looking at him with absolutely no expression at all.

"Captain Chakotay," Admiral Shanthi said when it became clear that nobody else was planning to speak, an amused undercurrent in her voice. "I'm sure you remember Admiral Janeway."

Kathryn inclined her head. "Captain. Congratulations on your promotion."

A cold fist gripped Chakotay's spine. Nine months, and she hadn't mellowed toward him at all? No wonder she hadn't returned any of his messages.

"Admiral," he answered quietly, concentrating on keeping his voice even. "Congratulations on yours too."

Some insane impulse made him hold out a hand. She stared at it. Silence expanded to fill the space between them.

Then the man standing beside Kathryn, whom Chakotay hadn't even noticed, shifted his feet and asked, "Aren't you going to introduce us, Kathryn?"

She seemed to have forgotten his presence as well; she started when he spoke. "Of course," she said swiftly. "Ryan Austin, this is Captain Chakotay, Lieutenant Harry Kim and Seven of Nine."

"Your former crew." Ryan shook Harry's hand with a smile, clasped Seven's fingers for a moment then turned to Chakotay, hand out. "So you were Kathryn's right hand man?"

Chakotay gripped the other man's hand and was less than surprised to feel Ryan's crushing pressure. He returned it in spades. "You could say that."

They sized each other up, knuckles whitening.

"I'm surprised we haven't met before," Ryan returned. "Seven years in exile, I'd have thought you two were close friends."

Chakotay's gaze flickered toward Kathryn. "The closest," he said softly.

"Things change, huh?"

The snide undertone in Austin's voice made Chakotay's eyes narrow. He turned his attention back to the other man, assessing him.

"I guess they do," he drawled, disrespect clear in his tone.

Kathryn's furious glare encompassed them both.

Taela Shanthi snorted out loud. "Save it for pistols at dawn, gentlemen. Seven, Lieutenant Kim, I'd like you to accompany me to the stage. It must be almost time for the ribbon-cutting."

Chakotay released Austin's hand and let his gaze slide back over to Kathryn. She was livid, her spine straight and her colour high; it was clear she longed to verbally lash at him and was only holding back out of decorum.

He didn't want decorum. He wanted everyone else to melt away into nothing. He wanted to be somewhere else, in a silent room with nobody but her, to talk and listen and look at her. He wanted to touch her.

He wanted the impossible.

"It was good to see you again, Admiral," Chakotay said politely. He slipped his arm around Seven's waist and they walked away into the crowd.

===0===

"So that was him, huh?"

"That was whom?" Kathryn turned icy-grey eyes on her date.

Ryan tilted his chin in the direction of Chakotay's back. "The famous first officer."

"That was him." Kathryn shifted to face the stage as Admiral Shanthi tapped the microphone, drawing the crowd's attention. The chatter and clink of glasses died away as Shanthi launched into her speech praising the _Hawking_ -class scout vessels and their groundbreaking astrometric sensor arrays, and Kathryn kept her chin raised and her back straight and didn't hear a word.

Her head ached. She longed for quiet and solitude, but the evening had barely begun and she still had hours of polite smiles and stifling conversation ahead. Absently she rubbed at the knots gathering at the back of her neck, and felt Ryan's palm clasping her nape warmly, the ball of his thumb soothing her tightened muscles. Her tension headache eased almost immediately and she leaned her back against his chest, humming her approval.

After the applause had died down, Ryan leaned in close and spoke softly in her ear. "Kathryn."

She arched an eyebrow at him and he reached down to twine his fingers into hers, his thumb stroking her palm and sending delightful flutters along her nerve-endings. "Come with me."

"Where?"

He tugged her hand and she let him lead her out of the banquet hall.

It seemed like he was heading for the exit, and Kathryn knew she'd have hell to pay if they left before Kjogo got her publicity shots. "Ryan, where are we going?"

He glanced around, opened a door and pulled her inside.

"Really?" She gave him a mild glare. "I thought you were joking about the cloakroom."

He crowded her up against the wall and she sucked in a breath as his hands slid into the sides of her dress and onto her bare skin.

"Tell me about him." His tone was teasing and light, but Kathryn heard the challenge in it.

"Who?" she stalled.

"Your stalwart second-in-command. The tattooed terrorist." Ryan dipped his head, his lips brushing lightly over her neck. "The infamous Maquis rebel who captured your heart."

"You need to stop reading the tabloids." Unconsciously, she tilted her head to allow him better access, wondering fleetingly why the hell she wasn't pushing him away. But it felt so good…

"Not everything they print is bullshit."

"Ryan …"

"He's a good-looking guy." Ryan's tongue snaked out and curled around her earlobe and Kathryn shivered. "Seven years, day after day… you must've got pretty close."

"If there's something you want to ask me…" she trailed off on a gasp as he thumbed her nipple, "just ask."

He ground his hips into her and her head tipped backward.

"Did you fuck him?"

"No."

His hands slid under her skirt and he tugged her panties down her thighs. "Never?"

She wanted to hit him, but those hands, those lips… She fumbled to unzip his pants. "Never."

Ryan lifted her and pressed her against the wall, and Kathryn locked her legs around him, feeling him push slightly inside her. "Did you want to?"

She bit her lip, squirming against him. "Does it matter?"

He held her still, teasing her with tiny bites along her collarbone. "You tell me."

"We didn't have that kind of –" she groaned, feeling herself stretch around him as he inched further inside her, "– relationship."

He thrust into her hard and she tried not to whimper, twining her arms around his neck. _I'm a Starfleet admiral_ , she thought briefly, _and I'm having cloakroom sex with my date at an official banquet. What the hell is wrong with me_?

But then Ryan shifted his angle and hit exactly the right spot and she didn't care about anything else but the dazzling climax she knew he was about to wring from her.

It was only after the room stopped spinning and her feet drifted to the floor that she realised she was furious.

She yanked her panties back up her thighs as Ryan fastened his pants, tried to smooth down the hair that had escaped from her chignon and glared at him. "What the hell was that about?"

There was a look in his eyes – satiation, yes, but she read smugness as well. "I didn't hear you complaining."

"My mistake." Kathryn straightened her dress and yanked open the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she snapped, "Don't come over tonight. I need some time alone."

Standing in the empty corridor, she thought about going back inside the banquet hall, smiling and posing for photos and making polite conversation, all while she pretended not to notice the only man in the room whose presence she never had been able to ignore.

With a rare display of gratitude toward Admiral Kjogo for her insistence on Kathryn's personal safety, she activated her portable transport device and, within a matter of seconds, was sinking gratefully onto the couch in her apartment.

===0===

He tried not to watch her – tried to focus on Seven, elegant and poised onstage as Shanthi talked up her and Harry's contribution to the new ships of the line – but his gaze kept sliding over to Kathryn. He watched as she rubbed at the tension he could all but see gathering at the back of her neck and his fingers twitched, remembering the way he once used to ease it for her.

He watched as her date rested his hand there, as the other man's fingers and thumb rubbed at tense muscles, as Kathryn smiled gratefully up at him. As she leaned into his body the way she had never, not once, leaned into Chakotay's.

Then they were leaving, and Chakotay had to forcibly plant his feet on the floor to stop himself from going after her.

Fifteen minutes later Austin was back, ruffled and scowling, and Kathryn was nowhere to be seen.

 _Trouble in paradise_? Chakotay unstuck his feet and made his way over to Austin.

"Jilted?" he asked the other man with mock sympathy.

Austin's eyes narrowed. "If you must know, Kathryn wasn't feeling well."

Chakotay smiled. "She used to get headaches on _Voyager_. I always found a neck rub was the best way to ward them off."

He watched the other man's jaw clench.

"So, Mr Austin, what is it you do?"

"I run an interstellar courier company." Austin's blue eyes held a challenge. "Trans-Quadrant Express. Maybe you've heard of us?"

Chakotay tried not to show his intense, sudden interest. "Your company generally uses the trade routes across the Borderlands, am I right? What do you trade?"

"We mostly offer mercy runs to planets in need. Medical supplies, essential minerals and the like."

"How charitable of you. Much profit in it?"

"I get by," Austin said flatly.

Chakotay tilted his head. "Must be challenging these days, what with all the new competition."

"Is there something you want to ask me, Captain?"

"Just making conversation," Chakotay said lightly. He glanced over Austin's shoulder and saw Seven making her way in their direction. "Excuse me. Give my regards to Kathryn."

"Captain."

Chakotay turned back. "Yes?"

"She's never once mentioned your name. Any idea why that is?"

He felt a muscle jump in his temple. "No idea," he grated.

The other man folded his arms. "Whatever you did to her, I intend to make sure you never get the opportunity to do it again."

"Meaning?"

"Stay out of her life, Captain." Austin smiled without humour. "Or I'll make sure you regret it."

Chakotay stared after him as Austin walked away.

===0===

"Kathryn, I'm sorry. I had an alpha male moment."

She'd let him in after he showed up the following morning, wearing a shamefaced expression and holding a bunch of Vulcan daisies. As she arranged the flowers in a vase she kept her back to him.

"Kathryn?"

"I don't appreciate being treated like a sex object," she said coolly, finally turning to face him. "And thanks to you, I've already received the expected call from Admiral Kjogo haranguing me for failing to pose for the media last night."

"I'm sorry," he repeated, taking a tentative step toward her.

She folded her arms, unaccountably glad she was buttoned up in uniform. "What was that all about, anyway?"

"What?"

"You and Chakotay, behaving like a pair of targs in rut."

Ryan pushed a hand through his hair. "I was jealous."

"Whatever for?"

"He's in love with you," he said flatly.

Kathryn's jaw dropped. "Don't be ridiculous," she managed faintly.

Ryan raised a hand to her face, his voice soft. "Trust me, Kathryn, I know what a man looks like when he's in love with you."

Her eyes widened.

"I see that look in the mirror every day," he murmured, and bent to touch his lips to hers.

For a moment she was so shocked she didn't respond. But then he deepened the kiss, and fire raced through her the way it always did when he touched her. His other hand tugged at the fastening of her jacket and she couldn't suppress a moan, and then her clothes were sliding to the floor and his hands were on her and he was lifting her onto the counter and sinking to his knees between her parted thighs.

Afterward, he stood, wrapping his arms around her still-shaking body and pulling her close.

"I mean it, you know."

She pulled back to read his eyes.

"I love you, Kathryn." His voice echoed sincerity. "Stay with me."

===0===

When he woke, Seven was arched up on one elbow, watching him with troubled eyes.

"This isn't working."

Chakotay rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "What?"

A lock of hair slid down over her cheek and he thought about how if it was Kathryn lying there, rumpled from lovemaking and soft with sleep, he'd have wanted to smooth it back into place.

"Our relationship is unsatisfactory," Seven said bluntly.

He pushed his torso upright, suddenly wide awake. "What are you talking about?"

Seven twitched a shoulder. "We're sexually compatible. But our interests are too divergent and conversation is … unnatural between us." She hesitated. "When we are apart, I don't find myself distracted by thoughts of you. And I don't believe you miss me when I'm absent, either."

"Seven, where is this coming from?"

To his surprise she ducked her head to hide the flush on her cheeks, then met his eyes directly. "I… have developed feelings for someone else."

"Harry Kim," he guessed.

"How did you..." Seven bit her lip.

"I'm not blind," he gave her a small, but honest smile.

Seven slipped out of the bed and pulled on her robe, and he decided he'd rather be on his feet for this conversation too. They faced each other.

"I don't love you, Chakotay, and you don't love me," she said gently. "That much was evident at the banquet last night."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"When Admiral Janeway was in your vicinity, your respiration increased, blood flowed to the capillaries in your face and your pheromone output was heightened. You also behaved in a combative manner toward her date, indicating that you view him as a rival for her affections. I had observed these reactions on _Voyager_ , but it was only when you were in her presence last night that I finally understood the reason behind it."

Chakotay tugged furiously on his ear. "So I'm attracted to her. She's a beautiful woman. It doesn't mean I'm in love with her."

"Are you?"

His mouth opened, then closed. "Seven…"

She nodded. "As I suspected. I'm sorry, Chakotay. I should have known. If I'd been more adept in reading human emotions, I'd never have initiated a relationship with you."

"Are you saying this – us – was a mistake?"

"No." She rested a hand on his arm. "I've enjoyed our time together very much. You are an attractive and considerate mate, and I've learned a lot from you about human partnerships. But I don't believe we have a long-term future together, and I would prefer we part now as friends than attempt to continue a relationship under these circumstances."

Chakotay looked into her eyes and read sincerity.

"How did you turn out so wise?" he asked, smiling.

"I had a good teacher," she answered, moving into his arms for a brief but heartfelt hug.

===0===

"Kathryn."

She turned at the sound of her name and suppressed a sigh; Nyla Kjogo was striding toward her across the gardens.

"I understand you're meeting Owen Paris for lunch," Kjogo stated. "Why?"

Kathryn stared at her. "He's an old friend. Do I need a reason, Admiral?"

Kjogo ignored the question, gesturing for her to walk alongside. "Owen is taking his new role as Chief of Intelligence very seriously, and I hear he's sent a covert team into the Borderlands on reconnaissance."

"Admiral, you shouldn't be telling me about active Starfleet Intel investigations," Kathryn protested. "How do you even know about it?"

"I know a lot of things, Kathryn. And I want you to learn more."

Kathryn came to a halt. "Are you asking me to spy on Admiral Paris?"

"Nothing so cloak and dagger, Kathryn. Just find out if he's likely to cause any problems with the Midrian trade agreement. You've been working so hard, I'd hate it to be delayed or derailed over some over-zealous ensign's reports."

"Admiral…" Kathryn didn't know where to start. "If the trade agreement could be derailed by information Starfleet Intelligence brings to light, surely it deserves to be held up to further scrutiny. And," she hesitated, "you outrank Owen. Can't you order him to divulge whatever reports you're concerned about?"

"I may outrank him, but he's a cagey character and we don't see eye to eye. He trusts you. Find out what he's up to." Kjogo rested a hand on her shoulder and smiled with all her teeth. "Be a good girl, Kathryn."

 _Or I'll make you pay for it_ , Kathryn heard. "Understood," she muttered, watching as Kjogo's long legs carried her in the opposite direction.

"Katie, over here," she heard as she entered the restaurant. Owen Paris was waving at her from a table by the window. She smiled, weaving through the tables toward him.

"Hello, Owen." She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek before sliding into the chair opposite.

"So, tell me about this new man of yours," he began when they'd ordered their meals. "Austin, isn't it? Is he treating you right?"

 _There's a loaded question_ , Kathryn thought, fiddling with the stem of her water glass. "We've only been dating for a few months," she demurred.

"Well, you look good together." Paris grinned at her. "In fact, you look good, period. Nyla Kjogo might be working you hard, but it suits you."

"I've never been afraid of hard work." Kathryn smiled back, then leaned forward, lowering her voice. "It's the busy-work I can't stand. Thank God she's seen fit to give me something useful to do lately."

"Ah, yes." Owen gave her a canny look. "The Midrian trade deal. I suppose she's sent you here to find out what I know about the Borderlands."

Kathryn sat back, flushing. "She … did request something along those lines, yes."

"It's classified, Kathryn," he answered. "But I will tell you that one of my teams is investigating reports of a potential emerging threat to Federation security, backed by a conglomerate based in the Borderlands. Midrian features fairly heavily in that investigation."

Kathryn sipped her water. "Admiral Kjogo is concerned that your investigation might delay the signing of the trade agreement."

Owen raised his eyebrows. "What's in it for her?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've known Nyla for thirty years," Paris answered. "She's intelligent, resourceful and incredibly ambitious. If she wants this deal to go through, you can bet she's benefiting from it in some way."

"Are you suggesting she's involved in something underhanded?"

"I'm not suggesting anything." Paris looked at her evenly. "What you choose to infer is up to you."

He changed the subject then, and the conversation turned to less contentious topics. After lunch they walked back to Headquarters, and as they waited for their respective turbolifts he laid a hand on her arm.

"This Austin fellow of yours – I know you're not one to talk about your personal life, but you've barely said a word about him. I meant what I said before – I hope he's being good to you. You deserve some happiness in your life."

Her eyes filled with unexpected tears and she ducked her head, pressing her lips together. Owen patted her arm.

She was trying to think of something to say past the lump in her throat when she felt Owen straighten up beside her. "Look who it is. Heading back to the office, Captain?"

Footsteps came to a halt beside them and the voice that for seven years had invoked her most visceral reactions replied, "Admiral. Yes, I'm due at a meeting."

Kathryn raised her head and found Chakotay's eyes burning into hers.

"Admiral Janeway," he said expressionlessly. "How are you?"

 _He hates me_ , she realised suddenly, _and it's no wonder, considering the way I've treated him_.

Swallowing hard, she forced down the prickling at the back of her throat. "I'm fine, thank you, Captain."

He nodded, never looking away as he addressed Paris. "Excuse me, sir. I don't want to be late."

She tried not to watch him as he walked away, but looking into Owen Paris' understanding eyes was almost worse.

===0===

"You're late," Ryan greeted her cheerfully as she dragged her overtired, over-punished body through the apartment door.

 _Why did I give him an access code_? Kathryn berated herself silently. All she wanted was peace, solitude and a long, hot bath.

She tried to smile at him. "Long day, topped off by a particularly fiendish workout. Is that dinner I smell?"

"It is. I found your mother's biryani recipe in your replicator records. Why don't you take a shower and I'll serve up when you're ready?"

"Ryan…" She stopped talking as he came over and pulled her into his arms, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"You're exhausted," he said, gently kneading her tense shoulders. "Let me take care of you."

Kathryn couldn't deny the appeal of that idea. "Okay," she acquiesced, letting him lead her into the bedroom. He ducked into the ensuite to fill the tub and came back to help her out of her jacket and turtleneck, pressing kisses along her spine as he knelt behind her and unfastened her pants. As his mouth moved lower, she couldn't suppress a shiver.

Ryan turned her around with hands on her hips and swirled his tongue into her navel as his thumbs hooked over the band of her panties and dragged downward, his lips following their progress.

"Ryan, stop." She rested a hand on his head, fingers threading into his hair.

"What's up?" He looked up at her, thumbs rubbing the thin skin of her hips.

Kathryn sucked in a breath. "I'm just not in the mood."

He dipped his head to place a long, slow lick over her clitoris and she couldn't stifle a moan. "Sure about that?" he mumbled from between her legs.

She _was_ sure. Mentally, emotionally, she didn't want to be touched right now. The way her body reacted to him was becoming more than remarkable. It was… unnerving.

Kathryn forced herself to step back, holding him firmly away from her. "I'm sure."

"Okay." He stood, cupping her face briefly. "Take your bath. Dinner will be waiting when you're done."

She took a novel in with her and diligently forced her full attention to it, firmly avoiding all thoughts of annoying admirals, adoring boyfriends and tattooed captains. When she emerged half an hour later she'd managed to calm her disordered thoughts enough to muster up a genuine smile of appreciation as Ryan set a plate in front of her.

"This looks delicious. You've done my mom proud."

She couldn't eat much, as tasty as it was. Chakotay's stony face had crept forefront in her mind again, the memory tinged bitter with regret. Seven years of close friendship – and whatever else they might have been – and it was over. All of it.

"Kathryn?"

She stopped playing with her fork and looked up at Ryan.

He ran a hand through his hair, blue eyes intense on hers. "There's something I want to ask you."

Kathryn straightened up. "Go ahead."

Ryan left his chair and came over to her, dropping to one knee and taking her hand. Surprised, she frowned at him.

"Marry me," he blurted.

"What?"

"I love you." He stood, bringing her with him, one hand raising to cradle her face. "Marry me."

Her lips parted. "I don't – I – this is so sudden –"

He cut her off with a kiss that scorched her lips. "Marry me," he repeated as they broke apart, then kissed her again, only pulling away when she started to tremble and clutch at him. "Say yes."

His thumb rubbed gently under her jaw, his other hand leaving hers to trace the delicate knobs of her spine. Kathryn felt her body melting, and with it her resistance.

 _Why the hell not_? she thought defiantly. _He's a good man and he loves me. And I'm so tired of being lonely._

"Yes," she said, and laughed as he whooped and spun her around.


	7. Sheep's Clothing

Cause they will run you down, down 'til the dark

Yes and they will run you down, down 'til you fall

And they will run you down, down 'til you go

Yeah so you can't crawl no more

– Kaleo, _Way Down We Go_

===0===

 _ **Chapter Six: Sheep's Clothing**_

 _December, 2378_

Chakotay mistimed yet another jab-straight combination and staggered back as the bag swung heavily into his shoulder. Swearing under his breath, he steadied the bag and bounced on his toes.

"Your mind is not on the job."

"Fuck," he blurted, almost jumping out of his skin. He whipped around to see who'd spoken.

Jonah Miles leaned against the back wall of the gym, arms folded.

"What are you doing here?" Chakotay turned back to the bag, pounding it a little harder than necessary.

"You haven't checked in lately. I came to follow up on our investment."

"Your _investment_?" Chakotay snorted. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

Miles pushed off the wall and skirted the boxing ring, stopping the bag firmly just as Chakotay lined up to hit it again. "I haven't had a report from you in over a month, Captain."

"That's because there's nothing to tell." Chakotay fired a right hook at the bag. "I filed a report after I got back from Midrian. The mission was a bust."

"And in five weeks Starfleet Intelligence has learned nothing new? Perhaps now you understand why my agency exists."

Chakotay's fist slammed into the leather, a centimetre from Jonah Miles' head. "Do you think this is a joke? You have me lying to my boss, a man I happen to respect, not to mention betraying the organisation I work for. What the hell else do you want from me?"

"Results," Miles said flatly. "Entera is expanding, Captain, and the Orion Syndicate isn't happy. We're heading for a trade war. The consequences to this quadrant would be devastating."

He released the bag and handed Chakotay a water bottle.

"We know Entera has tentacles within Starfleet and the Federation government," he continued as Chakotay's glare subsided. "We don't know exactly how far they reach or how high they go. Your mission is to find out."

Chakotay was about to object when a memory drifted across his mind.

"If they're that well-connected," he said slowly, "one might assume that Entera also has influence within the other trade empires, and might be controlling some of the smaller independents."

"Such as?"

He weighed what he was about to do, sent a silent apology into the ether, and squared his shoulders. "Are you familiar with a courier company called Trans-Quadrant Express?"

"I am." Miles' eyes sharpened. "Admiral Bart Austin's son runs it."

"Yeah. I … met him a few weeks ago. Turns out he runs medical supplies and ore across the Alpha and Beta quadrants. I gathered his company is familiar with trade routes in and around the Borderlands."

"If I recall correctly, Mr Austin is romantically involved with a friend of yours."

Chakotay's hands stilled. "And?"

"And I'm aware you and Admiral Janeway are somewhat estranged. Don't you think it's time to rekindle that friendship?"

Chakotay exploded. "I am not going to use Kathryn to get to her sleazy boyfriend!"

"Yes, you are," the other man said mildly. "Remember what's at stake here, Captain. You'll utilise every angle, every lead and every _person_ it's within your ability to use, in order to get to the bottom of this." He patted Chakotay on the shoulder and sauntered toward the exit. "I'll expect a report soon."

"Fuck," Chakotay muttered, throwing his gloves to the mat in disgust.

===0===

"Excuse me, Admiral?"

Kathryn looked up. "What is it, Tora?"

Lieutenant Jens fidgeted, and Kathryn frowned. Jens was not one to fidget.

"There's someone here to see you. I've, uh, checked your schedule. You're free until 1400 hours."

"Show them in, then." Kathryn clicked off the padd and rose behind her desk, smoothing her uniform.

The sight of the man who stepped into the room made her heart constrict. She actually had to curl her hands into fists to stop the sound that wanted to climb out of her throat.

"Captain Chakotay," she forced her voice even, "this is a surprise."

Tora shut the door and Chakotay took a couple of hesitant steps into the room.

"Hello, Kathryn," he said.

"What can I do for you, Captain?"

"It's Chakotay." He sounded subdued. "I was hoping we could talk."

She should decline, tell him she was busy… "All right," she heard herself say, waving a hand toward the couch.

He sat. "Thanks."

 _I need coffee for this_ , she thought, going to the replicator. "Can I get you something?"

"Sure. Tea would be great, please."

She steadied the cups in her hands and placed them on the low table, sitting ramrod-straight as far from him as the couch allowed and clasping her hands in her lap.

He was staring at his boots and seemed in no hurry to speak, so she shifted in her seat and prompted, "You said you wanted to talk."

"I want to apologise," he said abruptly.

"What for?"

He smiled briefly, glancing at her. "For the way I acted at that banquet. I was an ass."

She couldn't disagree, so she sipped her coffee in silence.

"And I was hoping we could be friends again."

"Why?"

She wanted to kick herself immediately.

"Because I miss you," he said softly, holding her gaze. "Kathryn, I assume the fact that you never returned any of my messages means you're angry with me, and I must have done something to hurt you. I find that intolerable. Whatever I did, I'm more sorry for it than you know."

"I'm not angry with you."

It rang false in her own ears, and Chakotay simply looked at her.

Her teeth ground together. _Stop_ , she ordered herself. _Don't say it_ …

"How's Seven?"

The petty edge to her tone was unmistakeable, and his eyes sharpened on hers with dawning understanding. Kathryn looked away, silently cursing herself. He always had known her far too well.

"Seven is doing fine," Chakotay said slowly. "I haven't heard from her in a few days, but the last time we spoke she was happy. I'm not sure if she's more excited about installing her astrometrics arrays on the new line of ships, or working with Harry Kim."

"Harry?"

"We're not together anymore," he clarified. "But I wouldn't be surprised if Seven and Harry are."

As that revelation settled, her anger flooded back in. "Is that why you're here?"

"I'm … not following you, Kathryn."

"Seven ditched you, so you thought you'd see what I was up to?" She pushed up to her feet. "Are you lonely, Chakotay? Looking for someone to flirt with again to help you fill all those solitary hours?"

He rose as well. "No, that's not why –"

"Isn't it?" She stepped up close to him, glaring. "Seven years of possibilities and you're telling me you never think about the road not taken? What was it you said to me that last day on _Voyager_ … that we're not in a command structure anymore?"

"I did say that," he responded carefully. "But you made it clear that day, just as you had for the previous seven years, that you weren't interested in … possibilities. And whatever I did to destroy our friendship, I want to try to put it right."

 _Oh God_ , she realised, spinning away from him, _I've got it all wrong_. _He wants to be friends_. _Just friends_.

She felt stricken. Whatever attraction they'd once held for each other, it was long gone. On his part, at least.

It was that very thought – the acknowledgement, if only to herself, that she still felt so strongly for him – she, who was engaged to another man – that straightened her spine. Scrubbing her face of expression, she turned back to him.

"You have nothing to apologise for," she made herself say. "You've done nothing wrong. It was all a misunderstanding."

He was frowning.

"Really, Chakotay, it's nothing." She hesitated, then laid her hand on his chest. _One last time_ , she promised herself.

He looked down at it. "Kathryn –"

And then he stopped, and took her hand in his, his thumb brushing over the diamond ring.

"You're getting married?"

"Yes." She forced a smile. "The wedding is at Christmas."

"That's less than three weeks away." He was still staring at the ring. "Kathryn, I hate to ask this and please don't take it the wrong way, but are you sure?"

She swallowed. "I said yes, didn't I?"

He let her hand go, but seemed to be having trouble meeting her eyes. "Congratulations," he said quietly. "I hope you and Ryan will be very happy together."

"Thank you."

Chakotay stepped back and finally looked up at her, a small smile on his lips. "I'd better go."

She nodded.

At the door he paused. "Kathryn."

"Yes?"

This time when he looked at her she was almost knocked backward by the intensity in his eyes. "If you ever need me, I will always be here for you. Always."

She stood in the middle of her office, staring at the empty space Chakotay had left behind and twisting and twisting the ring on her finger.

===0===

"So what do you think?"

She'd lost the thread of the conversation somewhere in the second sentence. "I'm sorry… what?"

Ryan put down his wine. "Kathryn, have you heard a single thing I've said in the last fifteen minutes?"

She hadn't. She'd been replaying the memory of Chakotay's visit over and over, lingering on the things she had always noticed about him – his low voice, the easy way he moved; the way his body seemed to incline toward hers, without conscious thought, whenever she moved close enough to touch him. The way his eyes darkened and his lips parted, drawing her gaze. That small smile he gave her, the one she'd always believed meant she had asked too much of him, but that he would acquiesce without protest.

Maybe she'd been wrong, all these years, about why he yielded to her wishes so uncomplainingly. She had always hoped it was because he loved her, but maybe it was just because he was tired of fighting.

She was tired, too; tired of guarding the softest parts of herself from him when he had always been able to breach her defences without even trying. Maybe she'd made the right decision in erasing his messages, and with them, his relentless presence in her life.

And maybe the dismay in Lieutenant Jens' clear blue eyes, when Kathryn ordered her to deflect any future attempts at contact from Captain Chakotay, had merely been her own projection.

"Kathryn?"

She straightened, sending Ryan an apologetic look. "What were you saying?"

"I was talking about running for the next local election," he said with slightly exaggerated patience. "I've been speaking to a couple of acquaintances about the border skirmishes with the Ferengi and the Orions. It's making life difficult for small traders, and a lot of people think the Federation should be strengthening its borders."

She put down her fork. "Border patrol is a Starfleet responsibility, Ryan. I'm not sure you'd find much support within 'fleet for political influence on how we arm our front lines."

"Well, that's where you come in," he cajoled. "After all, with the heroic Kathryn Janeway on my side, surely Starfleet will see the wisdom of it."

"What are you talking about?" She stared at him. "Ryan, I can't use my position to help you gain a seat on the Federation Council. It would be a conflict of interest."

"Why?" he asked. "Plenty of council ministers have come from the Starfleet ranks. Even a few presidents – Archer, Laikan, Sulu... Do you really think they didn't trade on their 'fleet connections?"

"Not while they were serving members of Starfleet," she retorted. Her head had started to ache and she rubbed absently at her temples. "Besides, I'm not sure I agree with you. The Federation needs to strengthen diplomatic and trade relations with the Ferengi, not police them."

"What about the Orions?" Ryan watched her over the rim of his glass. "I've heard they're increasing their armaments in the Borderlands. If they annex any more planets, trade between the Federation and the Klingon Empire could be at risk."

"You seem remarkably well-informed," she commented. "Where did you hear that?"

"This is my livelihood we're talking about. I make it my business to stay informed."

"I see." She folded her hands on the table. "I'll look into it. That's all I can promise."

Ryan looked as if he was about to argue, but at the slight arch of her eyebrow his blue eyes cleared and he smiled at her. His hand rested over hers, his thumb rubbing softly along the inside of her wrist. It made her shiver.

"I'm sure you'll agree with me once you have all the facts," he pitched his voice low and silky. "And of course you'll support me publicly when you're my wife."

The tips of his fingers brushed her inner arm. "Of course," she echoed distractedly, mesmerised by his tingling, luscious touch. It tightened her nipples and raised the tiny hairs on her arms.

"I almost forgot to tell you – President Zife's office called for you earlier." Ryan brought her hand up to his mouth, and she sucked in a breath at the sensation of his lips moving warmly over her palm. "He's giving a speech on Saturday and there'll be a formal dinner afterward. They want you to be there."

Kathryn frowned, the headache that had ebbed with his touch sending a sharp pulse into her temples. "I thought we were going to Indiana this weekend. My mother's been looking forward to it."

Ryan shifted his chair next to hers and tugged lightly at her fingers, blue eyes smoky and inviting. "What can we do? When the president says jump…"

"I ask how high," she barely managed to breathe, and slipped out of her seat to sink onto his lap, winding her body around his.

===0===

He was still wound up, even after a dozen rounds with a burly Bolian cadet and thirty laps in the pool, but he knew if he worked out any more he'd feel like aged meat the next day. Pulling on his sweats after a quick shower, Chakotay left the gym for a walk around the rose garden.

At this late hour the garden was, as he'd expected, empty. He ambled slowly along the paths until fatigue dragged at his steps and he stopped to rest in the lee of the main Starfleet Communications building.

So Kathryn was getting married. Chakotay let his head thud against the wall, trying not to swear aloud. He'd had a sick feeling in his chest for three days, ever since he saw that diamond on her finger.

The door nearest him opened, letting out a waft of recycled air, and Chakotay kept still, hoping whoever was working this late wouldn't spot him. He was in no mood for conversation.

"… sure I can talk her into it," a male voice was saying.

The voice was vaguely familiar, he noted, frowning as he tried to place it.

"I should hope so," came the acerbic reply.

Chakotay barely stopped himself from jumping. That was Nyla Kjogo's voice.

"She doesn't respond particularly well to bullying," Kjogo continued, "and frankly, I'm tired of ordering her around like a recalcitrant four-year-old. It's your job to charm her into this."

"I'll keep up my end," the man retorted, letting the door swing shut. "You just make sure all the political pieces are lined up. I don't intend to lose this election."

Kjogo gave a short laugh. "You have the president's endorsement, seven media channels on your team and you're marrying the most famous woman in the quadrant right before the polls. You can't possibly lose."

 _Austin_ , Chakotay recognised, shock twisting his gut. He held as still as he could, listening intently.

"What about Paris?" Austin asked. "He's a loose cannon. Can't you muzzle him?"

"Leave Owen Paris to me." Kjogo's face was briefly illuminated as she tapped into a padd. "He has friends in high places, but not as high as mine. I can handle him."

"A couple of well-placed threats might keep him in line," the man mused. "I hear he's very fond of his young granddaughter."

Chakotay couldn't help the grinding of his teeth.

"Must you stoop so low, Ryan? Show a little class."

Chakotay heard the shifting of hands over Starfleet fabric. "You like it when I get low, Nyla." Ryan Austin's voice was smooth and treacly. "Don't deny it."

"Have you forgotten I'm Tandaran?" Kjogo sounded bored. "I'm immune to your particular brand of charm, so save it for Janeway."

"Oh, shit." Ryan spoke sharply. "What time is it? I'm supposed to meet Kathryn at the Four Seasons."

"Then you'd better get moving, and make sure the paparazzi get a few good shots in." She sighed. "I have to go too. I've got a meeting."

The sounds of their footsteps moving away almost obliterated Austin's low reply, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Fortunately," Kjogo said tartly, "that doesn't leave much."

Austin laughed, the pair of them moved off in opposite directions, and Chakotay waited until he was sure he was alone again before slowly uncurling himself away from the wall.

His could barely process everything he'd overheard. The moment he'd met Ryan Austin his instincts had woken up and shouted a warning, but for Kathryn's sake he had wanted to believe the man was genuinely good for her. And what the hell was Nyla Kjogo doing, conspiring with him? Clearly Austin was using Kathryn to launch his political career, but what was Kjogo getting out of their association?

That sick feeling in his chest returned, and with it a wild array of suspicions. He had to do something. But before he could act he needed the truth, and there was one logical place to look for it. He strode along the path toward the Intelligence building and let himself into his office.

Seated behind his desk, he drummed his fingers on it. "Computer, display the service record of Fleet Admiral Nyla Kjogo."

The computer beeped obligingly and Chakotay hunched over the screen.

 _Kjogo, Nyla. Born 2318 in Hekta, Tandar Prime. Graduated Starfleet Academy in 2340, 97th percentile. Rose quickly through the ranks. Veteran of the Cardassian conflict. Commanded the 5_ _th_ _Squadron during the Dominion War and was awarded several medals for valour. Became the youngest Tandaran ever to be promoted to fleet admiral in 2375._

That didn't tell Chakotay what he really wanted to know. What was her connection with Ryan Austin? Who were the "friends in high places" she'd boasted about? What game was she playing, and what did she want with Kathryn Janeway?

"Access Federation civilian database and display information pertaining to Ryan Austin, owner of Trans-Quadrant Express."

 _Austin, Ryan. Born 2330 in Salva City, Vega Colony. Father listed as Admiral Bartholomew Austin. Mother unknown. Married to Maja Hansen of Vega Colony in 2351, divorced 2352. Relocated to San Francisco, Earth, in 2352. Registered owner of Trans-Quadrant Express from 2358 until present._

"Hansen," he muttered. "Vega Colony…"

Seven had relatives there; a large contingent of Hansens had settled on Vega Colony half a century ago. Could Ryan Austin have been married to one of them?

"Computer, open a channel to Seven of Nine on the USS _Mehit_."

~Chakotay,~ Seven looked pleased. ~Are you well?~

"Fine, Seven, thank you. How are you? How's Harry?"

Seven coloured a little. ~I'm in good health. As is Lieutenant Kim. How did you…?~

"How did I know you two are together?" He shrugged, smiling. "Lucky guess. I'm happy for you. But listen, Seven, I have another reason for calling. When you visited Vega Colony a few months back, did you happen to meet a woman called Maja Hansen?"

~My father's cousin.~ Seven pressed her lips together. ~No. According to my Aunt Irene, Maja Hansen is permanently confined to a psychiatric hospital and has had no external contact since her admittance approximately twenty-five years ago.~

Chakotay sat back in shock. "Do you know what she suffers from?"

~I do not. However, my aunt may be willing to speak with you on the subject. I'll ask her to contact you.~

"At her earliest convenience, please, Seven. It's important."

~Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?~

"No, thanks, Seven. I appreciate your help. Chakotay out."

Seven's image disappeared from the screen, and Chakotay chewed his lip, thinking. An abbreviated marriage to a woman who was committed to an institution when it ended, and a mother listed as _unknown_ ; mystery seemed to surround Ryan Austin. He wasn't sure any of this was important, but it was curious.

He re-read Austin's birth record. Born in Danwar Maternity Hospital on Stardate 7638.5 – he ran a quick mental calculation – October twenty-second, 2330.

"Computer, display Danwar Hospital prenatal records for the year 2330. Identify any instances of the name Bartholomew Austin."

 _There are no results to display._

Chakotay frowned. Maybe Admiral Austin had never attended prenatal appointments with the mother of his child. "Broaden search to all obstetrics records, same parameters."

 _There are no results to display._

"Shit." Chakotay stood, pacing the room.

 _Incoming transmission from Irene Hansen_ , the computer informed him, and he sat quickly behind his desk, activating the viewscreen.

"Ms Hansen," he addressed the sweet-faced woman onscreen. "Thank you for contacting me so quickly."

~Annika said it was important. How can I help you, Captain?~

"This is going to sound like a strange question, but I hope you'll indulge me … What can you tell me about your cousin, Maja Hansen?"

~Oh, Maja,~ Irene sighed. ~I haven't seen her in almost thirty years. What happened to her was terrible.~

"What did happen?"

~I don't know the details, I'm afraid. All I know is that she has acute psychological dissociation. I was told it's incurable, though I don't know what caused it.~ She paused. ~Anything else I could tell you is just rumour and speculation.~

"I understand. I'd like to hear it anyway, if you're willing to tell me." Chakotay leaned in, smiling just enough to show his dimples.

As he'd hoped, Irene relented and smiled back at him. ~Well, there was some talk that she was pregnant when she went into hospital, and that the baby was secretly adopted. I've never really known whether to believe that.~

"Why not?"

Irene's smile faded. ~Because I tried to find out. I wanted children but couldn't have them myself, and when Magnus and Erin disappeared a few years later I lost my niece as well. If Maja had given birth to a child she was unable to care for, I wanted to know about it. But the hospital refused to give me access to her medical records.~

"I'm sorry," Chakotay said honestly.

~I argued with those doctors for months,~ Irene mused. ~I was convinced they were stonewalling. It's strange to think that the child would be about twenty-five now, just a few years younger than Annika.~

"Then you do believe it?"

Irene straightened, meeting his eye. ~A ward nurse passed on a rumour that one of the psychiatric patients had given birth and that a man had come to claim the baby. She didn't know who the patient was, but she believed the man claimed guardianship because he was somehow related to the child. And that he was a Starfleet officer, someone high up in the ranks.~

"A _Starfleet_ officer?" Chakotay stared at her.

~That's all she could tell me. And I've never been able to confirm whether she was talking about Maja or another patient.~

He filed that away. "Do you know anything about Maja's marriage?"

Irene shook her head. ~I'm sorry. All I know is it was very brief and ended when Maja had her psychotic break. I suppose whoever he was, he divorced her on grounds of mental incapacity. I can't say I blame him.~ She paused. ~If there was a child, I suppose he'd have been the father. To be honest, that's what makes me doubt that part of the story.~

"How so?"

~Well, if he knew he had a child, wouldn't he have been the one to claim it? And Maja's husband wasn't a Starfleet officer.~

 _No, he wasn't_ , Chakotay thought. _But his father was. An admiral, no less._

He kept that to himself, though. "Thank you for your time, Ms Hansen," he said. "And I'm sorry if I've stirred up any unpleasant memories."

~It's all right, Captain.~ Irene smiled at him. ~Things have turned out quite well for me, now that I have Annika back. And I have you to thank for that.~

"Actually," he said quietly, "the person you have to thank for that is Kathryn Janeway."

They said their goodbyes and he closed the channel, leaning back in his chair to sift through the information Irene had given him. Intriguing as it was, he needed another angle. Looking into Ryan Austin's personal history was getting him nowhere with the problem at hand.

He thought back over the conversation he'd overheard in the rose garden. Threats to Miral Paris, political machinations, interference in Starfleet Intelligence operations… he didn't know where to start.

A snippet of that unholy dialogue wormed its way to the front of his memory.

 _I'm Tandaran_ , Kjogo had reminded Austin. _I'm immune to your brand of charm._

He straightened up. "Computer, access medical database, xenobiological section. Display Tandaran genome and list all known natural immunities."

A long list of medical words appeared on the screen. Immunities to known poisonous or psychotropic substances, diseases, quirks of alien biology –

"Stop," he said suddenly. "Computer, go back three lines and hold."

 _Tandaran physiology is known to present a natural immunity to Deltan pheromones._

"Computer," he said slowly, "display population breakdown of Vega Colony."

 _The population of Vega Colony is 43.2 percent human, 36.8 percent Deltan, 7.5 percent Vulcan, 4.6 percent Andorian…_

"Computer, halt." Chakotay sat unseeing as the pieces slotted together.

Ryan Austin's personal history was more than intriguing. It was vital to understanding at least part of what he'd overheard in the rose garden.

Tandarans were immune to Deltan pheromones.

Humans were not.

He'd learned in first-year xenobiology that exposure to Deltan pheromones could cause psychological and emotional effects in most humanoids, ranging in severity from sexual addiction and susceptibility to subconscious suggestion, all the way up to – in the worst case scenario – permanent insanity.

Ryan Austin's unidentified mother, he intuited, had been Deltan. And her son had inherited the trait that Deltans were known for, a trait that Deltans in Starfleet deliberately suppressed due to its dangerous effects on most species. But Ryan Austin had never suppressed his natural ability. He'd used it instead, and the impact on his ex-wife had apparently been devastating.

And now he was using it to manipulate Kathryn.


	8. Adrift

_**A/N: Warning for dubious consent depicted in this chapter.**_

This is the last time I'll abandon you  
And this is the last time I'll forget you  
I wish I could

\- Muse, _Stockholm Syndrome_

===0===

 _ **Chapter Seven: Adrift**_

 _December, 2378_

"Thanks," Kathryn smiled at the barista as she lifted her cup and sipped, sighing in pleasure. She'd managed to convince her personal trainer to finish this morning's session early, leaving her just enough time to stop in at her favourite coffee shop on her way to work.

Her head was aching, a constant, low throb that seemed as though it had been with her forever, and even caffeine wasn't really helping. Inhaling the steam rising from her coffee, she switched on the padd containing her schedule for the next week. Gretchen had been disappointed but resigned that Kathryn had had to cancel their weekend plans and it only made Kathryn more determined to spend some time with her mother before the wedding.

Which, she realised with a confusing mix of emotions she wasn't sure she wanted to name, was only two weeks away now.

She was beset with a sudden need to talk to someone who knew her. Closing her schedule, she opened a comm channel.

~Katie!~ Gretchen had clearly been in the garden; rosy-cheeked from the cold, her smile was open and honest and everything Kathryn had been longing to see.

"Hi, mom." She found herself blinking back tears.

~What's wrong?~ Gretchen demanded immediately.

"Nothing, I'm –"

~Don't give me any of that 'fine' bullshit.~ Gretchen glared at her daughter. ~Tell me what's going on. You look tired, honey.~

"It's just a headache. Feels like I've had it for weeks."

~Don't you have doctors at HQ?~ Gretchen's voice was tart.

"You know how I feel about doctors." Kathryn shrugged listlessly. "And the only one I want to see is busy writing papers on Delta quadrant diseases."

~Uh-huh.~ Her mother frowned at her. ~Don't mess with your health, Katie. See a doctor. Better yet, come here and let me look after you. If anyone could use a break, it's you.~

"I'd love to, but I'm so busy –"

~I know. Diplomacy, negotiations, wedding plans…~ she paused, noting Kathryn's involuntary flinch. ~What? What did I say?~

"Nothing."

~Kathryn Janeway, don't lie to me. Are you having doubts about marrying Ryan?~

The headache ramped up and Kathryn rubbed her temples. "Of course not, mom. Listen, I have to go. I'll see you soon, okay?"

She disconnected before Gretchen could press her further, closing her eyes against the spikes of pain in her head.

Kathryn laid the padd on the table and brought the coffee to her lips, staring unseeingly through the café window. Last week Chakotay had asked her if she was sure about marrying Ryan, and she'd said she was.

 _I hope you and Ryan will be very happy together_ , he'd said.

She certainly cared for Ryan. He loved her, and she enjoyed their conversations, and he never failed to satisfy her sexually. Was that happiness? She thought she'd known happiness in different forms before, with Justin and with Mark. Did it matter that what she had with Ryan was different?

Shaking herself, she returned her attention to the padd and was making notations when she felt somebody's presence beside her table, and looked up.

"Chakotay," she blurted.

"Hello, Kathryn." He smiled at her tentatively. "I was just passing and saw you in here. I hope you don't mind if I join you?"

"I don't think –"

"Kathryn," he interrupted, "there's something I need to tell you. And I need you to hear me out."

The gravity of his tone sent apprehension curling into the pit of her stomach. "All right," she said slowly. "What is it?"

"Not here. Can we take a walk?"

Without a word she slipped her padd into her shoulder bag, drained her coffee and stood.

"Thank you."

He led her into the secluded gardens behind the café and they walked slowly, side by side, not touching, until the silence got to her. "What is it you want to tell me, Chakotay?"

"It's about Ryan."

She went still. "What about him?"

Chakotay ran a hand through his hair. "How much do you know about him, Kathryn? I mean, his personal history."

"I know enough." She didn't mean to sound defensive. "Why?"

"Do you know where he was born? Who his parents were?"

"Vega Colony. And his father was Admiral Bart Austin."

"What about his mother?"

"I …" She realised she had no answer. "It's never come up."

"There's a reason for that." Chakotay hesitated, then reached for her hands. She stared at them. "Kathryn, I don't think Ryan is a good guy. I believe his mother was Deltan, and he's been hiding that fact from you because –"

She jerked her hands away. "You've been checking up on him?"

"Yes."

"What the hell for?" she snapped. "It's not your place, Chakotay. You're not my first officer anymore."

"I overheard a conversation that raised a number of suspicions," he answered carefully, "so I did some checking. You know the effect Deltan physiology can have on humans. I think Ryan is half-Deltan and he's using his genetic abilities to manipulate you."

" _What_?"

Chakotay heaved in a breath. "Forgive me for asking this, but … when you're together, do you feel … out of control?" He tugged his ear, then clarified, "I mean, sexually."

Her face drained of colour. "That is _none_ of your goddamned business!"

"Kathryn, I'm sorry, but –"

" _No_ ," she snarled, striding away from him, then turning back with clenched fists. "I don't know what the hell your problem is, Chakotay, but you have crossed the line. I don't care what you're playing at. From now on, you _stay away from me_!"

"Kathryn, wait," he shouted after her, but she was gone.

===0===

Over the next few weeks, Chakotay searched every database he could access – and some he, officially, couldn't – in his quest for more information about Ryan Austin, and turned up next to nothing on him prior to his relocation to Earth in 2352. It smacked of a cover-up, and he suspected the late Admiral Bart Austin was responsible.

It also made him wonder if the senior Austin had been a member of Jonah Miles' clandestine agency. Even a high-ranking Starfleet admiral would find orchestrating this level of conspiracy difficult without friends in high places, to borrow a phrase from Nyla Kjogo.

But if Bart Austin had been Section 31, Jonah Miles didn't know about it. He'd ordered Chakotay to investigate whether the admiral's son was involved with Entera, after all. And his reaction when Chakotay relayed what he had learned about Ryan Austin's collusion with Kjogo had been reminiscent of Kathryn Janeway's steely stare and deadly, low-voiced response to some alien threat.

Kathryn Janeway. Who was now, he thought with an ache in his chest that left him breathless, Kathryn Austin.

He was furious with himself for approaching her the way he had. Given their strained relationship, he should have known she would be instantly on the defensive. He should have gathered more evidence, sent it to her in writing, given her space and time to consider it, allowed her to draw her own conclusions. Running full-tilt at Kathryn with something she didn't want to hear had never gone well on _Voyager_ , and it had been disastrous that day in the café gardens.

Because of his idiocy, she had gone full steam ahead into a poisonous marriage to a man who was using her, and Chakotay blamed himself.

He'd seen the news vids of her wedding; how could he miss them, when it had been front page news for weeks? Kathryn had looked so beautiful in her cream silk column dress, a bouquet of her mother's hothouse orchids in her hands. He knew they were honeymooning on Risa. He knew the gossip press were speculating whether the marriage had happened so quickly because she was pregnant. And he knew that Ryan Austin's approval rating had skyrocketed, and that he was tipped for an easy victory at the Federation Council election in three days' time.

===0===

The election was, as predicted, a landslide, and Kathryn Janeway – she'd declined to adopt her new husband's name – was beset with unease.

She'd sleepwalked through her own wedding – kept to immediate family only, at her insistence, though she'd lost the fight with Admiral Kjogo about posing for press-release photos. The exchange of vows had been jarringly brief and she'd barely had time to hug her mother and sister before Kjogo had appeared to hurry the newlyweds to her chosen photo location. When Kathryn had seen the pictures on the broadcasts the following morning, she'd barely recognised herself in the woman with the tight-eyed smile.

Her headaches had worsened to the point where she had finally taken Gretchen's advice and visited the duty doctor at HQ, citing stress and requesting a hypospray. It had controlled the pain enough to get her through the manic fortnight preceding the wedding, and she'd convinced herself that stress was, in fact, the reason for her migraines. She was sure that all she needed was a vacation.

But ten days on Risa for her honeymoon had lowered her stress level not a bit. Each time she ventured out the paparazzi had shown up, compelling her to put on a show of smiling, newlywed bliss until she could escape back to their beach hut.

The honeymoon had not been a holiday for Ryan either. He'd spent almost dawn to dusk working – communicating with his support staff, running his courier business, giving interviews and posing for publicity photos with Kathryn on his arm – and by the time he dropped into bed beside her each night, he didn't want to talk. All he wanted to do was fuck and fall asleep.

Kathryn had found herself increasingly restless and jittery as each day wore on, preoccupied with waiting for that moment, the moment he pulled her into his arms. She refused to analyse why she felt lonelier than ever now that she was married, or why her head would ache and her stomach twist with nausea that only seemed to abate when Ryan touched her.

Now that they were back in San Francisco he'd moved into her place, holding meetings in her lounge room and letting his aides use her communications equipment. Kathryn worked late in her office at HQ most nights, longing for the peace of her previously empty apartment, and would only come home when the stress migraines grew so bad her vision began to blur.

Ryan would take one look at her white, tight-lipped face and send his assistants away. He'd peel off her uniform and loosen her hair, his strong hands easing the tension from her shoulders. His massages always ended the same way: warm lips on her skin, his body pressed to hers, his fingers or tongue urging her into climax before he thrust into her, prolonging the intensity. She began to crave the orgasms he wrung from her so effortlessly, almost as much as the languorous relief that followed.

She knew the press was hinting heavily that she'd be making a baby announcement any day now, and she was trying so hard to ignore it. The idea of having a child with Ryan filled her with a terror she found incomprehensible. She had always wanted children, so surely she should want to have them with the man she'd just pledged to love and honour for the rest of her life?

Ryan seemed to think so. The morning before the polls opened, as she pinned up her hair before the bathroom mirror, he casually asked her when she planned to stop her birth control boosters.

"I – hadn't thought about it," she stammered, caught off guard.

He turned to kiss her forehead, hands sliding onto her hips. "Don't you think you should?" he murmured. "You'll make such a wonderful mother, Kathryn."

"Ryan…" she held her hands over his, stilling them. "We need to talk about this."

"Of course we will," he said blithely, moving back to the mirror to straighten his tie. "After I win the election tomorrow we can both relax. Who knows – maybe it'll happen sooner than we think." He grinned at her reflection. "You might have to speak with that slavedriver Kjogo about winding down your working hours."

Kathryn bit her lip.

"Gotta go." Ryan kissed her tenderly, drawing her into his arms, and despite herself she melted, pressing her body into his. "Damn," he growled. "Don't make me late, woman."

He gave her ass a squeeze, nipped her neck lightly just above her rank bar, and loped out the door.

Kathryn lowered herself to sit on the side of the bathtub, eyes squeezed shut as she willed away the pervading sense of dread.

===0===

Nyla Kjogo fronted up to Kathryn's office the Monday after Ryan's successful appointment as Federation Councillor – a first, as Kathryn had previously always been summoned to hers – and offered her congratulations, along with an invitation to tour the Yaraka sector with her celebrated husband.

"For what purpose?" Kathryn asked.

"President Zife has specifically requested that Councillor Austin meet with representatives from the unallied planets in the Borderlands, and your presence is required to lend the Starfleet seal of approval. Thanks to your trade negotiations with Midrian and Japori, several independent worlds in the region have started making overtures for Federation protection. I want you out there pressing the flesh, Kathryn. Take Lieutenant Jens with you, too. I'll have her line up a series of PR engagements."

Kathryn had had enough.

"Admiral." She stood, clenching her fingers to hide their trembling. "I didn't join Starfleet to wear pretty dresses and pose for the cameras. I'm a scientist, not a politician's accessory, and I damn well want to be out there exploring, not batting my eyelashes at fat diplomats who wouldn't know a hypergiant from a house cat!"

She stared at Kjogo, breathing harshly.

"Are you finished?"

Kathryn lifted her chin and swallowed. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Kjogo unfolded her arms and tossed a padd on Kathryn's desk. "Here's your itinerary. You leave in two days. Pack some pretty dresses, Kathryn, and don't forget to smile like I know you can."

===0===

After Kjogo's departure Kathryn allowed herself a short and uncharacteristic outburst of sobs, then heaved in a breath, wiped her fingers under her eyes and walked over to rest her forehead against the cool surface of the window.

Her head was killing her and her heart was pounding so fast she felt it might choke her. Maybe her mother was right about seeing a proper doctor – not just one she could palm off with the excuse that she was under stress.

"Are you all right, Admiral?"

Kathryn started; she hadn't heard her aide enter the office. Tora Jens stood by her desk, forehead creased in concern. She carried a tray that held a coffee pot and two dainty cups.

"I'm fine," Kathryn answered automatically. "It's just a headache."

She could see Jens' gaze cataloguing the signs she knew must be visible – reddened eyes, blotched skin – and she walked over to her desk, turning her back as she pretended to search for a padd.

"Let me pour you a coffee," Jens said firmly, and before Kathryn could decline she had carried the tray over to the small sofa and sat, looking expectantly at her boss as she poured not one, but two espressos.

Kathryn debated whether to reprove her aide for her presumption, but found she couldn't bring herself to do it. "A coffee does sound good," she admitted, taking the seat opposite Jens and bringing the cup to her lips.

A soft huff of laughter made her open her eyes and turn her attention to her aide, who was smirking at her.

"I did it again, didn't I?" Kathryn said ruefully, recalling Tora's reaction the first time the lieutenant had watched her enjoy her coffee.

Jens' smile broadened. "Frankly, Admiral, I don't know how your first officer on _Voyager_ managed to focus on his job when he watched you do _that_ every day. He must have had the restraint of a Vulcan." She tasted her own espresso and added contemplatively, "Though I imagine he was quite a source of distraction himself."

Having swallowed a too-large mouthful of coffee, Kathryn couldn't quite muster up the glare that comment deserved. Fortunately, Jens wasn't blind to her reaction and moved smoothly on.

"Admiral Kjogo gave me a copy of the itinerary for the Borderlands visit. Shall I take you through it?"

"God, no." Kathryn pressed her fingertips against the spot where her temple was beginning to throb again. "Just flag any political or trade developments on the off-chance an interviewer decides to ask me a real question. And Tora, try to reserve me an evening or two off, preferably with my husband. I'll put you in touch with Ryan's assistant so you can coordinate our schedules."

Tora Jens' face had gone blank. "Yes, ma'am."

"Something wrong?" Kathryn raised her eyebrows at Jens' change in demeanour.

"Will Councillor Austin be accompanying you?"

"Actually, it's more that I'll be accompanying him." Kathryn tried to keep the resentment from her tone. "Why do you ask?"

Jens was obviously practiced at concealing her emotions, but the long pause before the young woman mumbled something about arranging extra personal security told Kathryn that her aide wasn't being truthful.

She raised a hand to cut the lieutenant off. "As soon as I mentioned my husband, you clammed up. Out with it, Tora. Do you have a problem with Ryan?"

Jens' blue eyes signalled _yes_ , but she answered, "No, Admiral, of course not."

Kathryn frowned at her, trying to puzzle out why her aide would take issue with her husband. Was it his politics she disliked, or the man himself?

"Shall I make you a doctor's appointment before we leave?"

"What?"

"For your headaches," the lieutenant replied, and only at Jens' pointed glance did Kathryn realise she had the fingers of one hand pressing into the knot that had formed at the base of her skull.

"Oh," she said. "No. I'm just a little tired."

Jens looked conflicted. "You've been getting those headaches for months now, Admiral. Are you sure you don't want me to –"

"I _said_ , no," Kathryn snapped, her words dropping like stones into the space between them.

She stared silently at the younger woman. The sympathy she read in Tora's eyes wasn't surprising. The guilt and remorse, however, was.

"I'm sorry," Jens said with quiet intensity.

"No, I'm the one who should apologise," Kathryn said woodenly. "And don't worry about me. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"I'll get started on your schedule immediately," and before Kathryn could dismiss her, Jens had retreated to the outer office.

Kathryn dropped her head onto her folded arms with a groan.

Everything felt wrong. She was surrounded by people whose motivations she couldn't quite define, and she no longer trusted her instincts. If she could only rid herself of these headaches, maybe she'd be able to think clearly. Maybe everything would start to make sense.

 _I should make time to speak to a counsellor_ , she thought, and rejected the idea immediately. Even if Kjogo allowed it, what could she possibly talk about? Seven years captaining a ship back from the Delta quadrant wasn't exactly a relatable experience. As for what had happened to her since, she wouldn't know where to start.

Were she on _Voyager_ , she'd pull together the captain's mask, shove the troubling emotions down into the corner of her soul and carry on. But she was someone's wife now. Surely instead of bottling it all up as she had for the past eight years, she should tell her husband her troubles? Wasn't that what married couples were supposed to do – share the good times and the bad?

And, God, could she use a hug right about now. Maybe it was time to change the habit of almost a decade.

Suddenly energised, she programmed the coordinates into her personal transporter and materialised in the anteroom of Ryan's new office. His assistant was absent but the office door was ajar, so Kathryn headed for it, a smile playing at her lips. Her steps slowed as she heard voices inside.

A feminine giggle, followed by low male laughter.

She peeked inside. Ryan lounged on the edge of his desk, his posture relaxed, a smile kinking his lips. Beside him – close; perhaps a little too close – stood a slender woman Kathryn judged to be in her early thirties. As she watched, the woman tossed her black hair so that it cascaded prettily down her back and cocked a hip, emphasising long legs in a short skirt.

Kathryn pushed open the door.

"Kathryn!" Ryan immediately pushed off the desk to come over and take her in his arms. "What are you doing here?"

Before she could answer, he swung around, his arm still locked around Kathryn's waist.

"This is Vela Marquez from President Zife's office. She very kindly came to hand-deliver our itinerary for the Borderlands tour. Admiral Kjogo must have filled you in by now?"

Vela Marquez extended her hand to Kathryn with a polished smile. "It's an honour to meet you, Admiral Janeway." She turned to Ryan. "I'd better be going, Councillor."

"Give my regards to the president," Ryan called as the office door closed behind her, then turned back to Kathryn, taking her face in his hands. "This is great, huh? Us taking a trip together, influencing the future of the Federation."

"That's a little hyperbolic, isn't it?" Kathryn arched an eyebrow at him.

"Isn't that what we're all here for – the good of the Federation?"

She wasn't sure what to think. His excitement was infectious and she couldn't help the corners of her lips turning up, but she was still furious at Kjogo's high-handedness and she wanted sympathy from her husband about the very thing that was giving him such joy. And then there was that young woman Marquez, who'd been standing just a little too close to him…

Ryan's thumbs were stroking her cheekbones. She watched his eyes darken and felt that now-familiar pulse and thrum of arousal, the ever-present headache fading to a dull background note.

"Ryan –"

"I'm so glad you're here," he murmured, leaning in to nip at her lower lip. His hands slid down over her shoulders, one tugging at the zip on her jacket as the other settled onto her breast.

" _Ryan_." She placed her hands against his chest. "We can't do this here."

"Yes, we can," he mumbled against her throat. Her jacket hung open now and his fingers were under her turtleneck, pushing it upward on his wrists.

Kathryn felt her breath hitching in her throat. "This isn't what I came here for…"

"Whatever the reason," his teeth closed over her nipple through the shirt as he deftly unfastened her pants, "you're here now, so let's make the most of it…"

And then his fingers were inside her panties, stroking deliciously, and she shuddered and gave into him, as she always did.


	9. In Umbra

_**A/N: Warning for non-consensual sex depicted in this chapter.**_

I know you've got a little life in you yet  
I know you've got a lot of strength left

I should be crying, but I just can't let it show

\- Kate Bush, _This Woman's Work_

===0===

 _ **Chapter Eight: In Umbra**_

 _February, 2379_

In the first week of February, Chakotay's team in the Borderlands reported that they had finally made contact with a confirmed member of the Entera Coalition, a Trialan trader named Kash. She was, in fact, one of the rebels who'd taken over the Fermola mine several years earlier in the event that had prompted the rise of Entera.

As Lieutenant Davis conveyed, Kash's job was assessment and recruitment of Entera assets, mainly traders, suppliers and other peripherals. Recruiting a corrupt Starfleet captain with Intelligence clearance would be quite a feather in her dreadlocks, as Jonah Miles agreed when Chakotay proposed he return to Midrian and try to get recruited himself.

He debated how much to tell Owen Paris, and finally decided to stick as close to the truth as possible. When she first went covert, Tilly Davis had posed as a Starfleet dropout; Chakotay's plan was to claim a personal connection with her to foster Kash's trust when Davis introduced them. His hope was that he would be quickly accepted into Entera's inner circle and allow Davis to take a step back to become his messenger back to Admiral Paris.

As he outlined this plan, he couldn't help thinking that Paris suspected something – the man was no fool – but he simply nodded and signed off on the trip. It made Chakotay wonder if the admiral was working for Jonah Miles' agency. Or worse: for Entera.

That thought made him grimace. Section 31's paranoia was rubbing off on him.

Officially, his absence from Earth was recorded as a reconnaissance mission in the Borderlands; Paris had pointed out that he wasn't trying to hide his Starfleet affiliation, just convince Entera that he was corruptible, and Miles had reminded him that Entera had influence within Starfleet and would almost certainly be checking his story.

Arriving at Midrian, Chakotay hoped his cover would hold – and that he'd be able to keep all the lies straight in his own mind.

He had a few hours with Tilly Davis to debrief and ensure their stories aligned before she introduced him to her Trialan contact, Kash. Chakotay thought privately that with her enlarged amber eyes, varicoloured dreadlocks and the tight, shiny leather clothing she favoured, Kash wouldn't have looked out of place in one of Tom Paris' science fiction holonovels.

Kash turned out to be almost as cagey as Jonah Miles, but after she'd verified the snippets of classified information Chakotay fed her over the course of his first few weeks on Midrian, she eased up on the suspicion. By the beginning of March, Chakotay had uncovered the call numbers and warp signatures of the fleet Entera used to ship goods across the Borderlands and beyond. He'd even got a look at some of the cargo manifests. Weapons, technology and other illicit substances were secreted among more innocuous goods such as foodstuffs, ores and medical supplies. He had the evidence now that Entera was controlling a large fleet of illegal traders, and he had the identities of some of the people involved.

But he was still locked out of the inner circle.

"I need more," he told Jonah Miles in one of his rare communiqués. "They won't trust me unless I bring them something big, and I won't give them any information that's vital to Federation security. You'll need to come up with something that's going to convince Entera I'm on their side."

~What you need is a motive,~ Miles mused.

"Such as?"

Jonah gave him a smile full of teeth that made Chakotay's hackles rise. ~Leave it with me.~

"One more thing." Chakotay held up a hand, and Miles paused in the act of reaching to close the channel. "Owen Paris. He's not stupid, and I'm sure he knows I'm doing more here than hanging out in bars and chasing up dead-end leads."

~As long as you get results, Paris will continue to give you latitude.~

"Tell me something, Miles. Is Owen Paris a member of your agency?"

~You'd be surprised to discover just who our agents are, Captain. But for you own protection and theirs, you're better off not knowing.~ Miles leaned forward. ~I'll contact you in a couple of days,~ he finished, and the screen went blank before Chakotay could object.

===0===

The excursion to the Borderlands planets had been as mind-numbing as Kathryn had expected. She was talked over in meetings. Her appearance was complimented and her opinions ignored during lavish dinners. The press were ever-present, yet all they seemed to care about were her favourite recipes, her interior decorating preferences and how soon she and Ryan were planning to start a family.

After two weeks of it, she was ready to scream.

Ryan wasn't helping either. He left her to field the inane media interviews while he offered his opinion on the serious matters. He cajoled her into dressing up for interminable dinners and balls and cocktail parties, but as soon as they'd garnered sufficient attention for their appearance together, he'd leave her to her own devices. Each night he'd make a point of asking her opinion on the day's events, but when that opinion differed from his he'd try to argue her into submission. And if that didn't work, he'd seduce her.

Kathryn wasn't sure what she'd have done if Tora Jens hadn't accompanied them on the tour. After the third party at which Kathryn ended up buttonholed by some handsy diplomat and trying not to drink herself into tolerating it, she insisted on bringing Jens along to the social events.

But that surfaced a new problem.

Ever since she'd encountered Vela Marquez, the president's aide, in Ryan's office, Kathryn had been subconsciously watching the way her husband spoke and behaved around attractive women. At first she'd written it off as his inherently flirtatious nature – she was hardly a saint in that aspect herself, after all – but with each lingering touch, each look he held too long, each conversation that skirted the bounds of innocence, she doubted a little more.

She wasn't the only one. Tora Jens stood on the sidelines and watched with her as Ryan lit up each woman he spent time with, and the growing sympathy in her eyes made Kathryn want to squirm. And then one morning she slept late, waking to the sound of voices kept deliberately low through the half-open bedroom door, and when she crept quietly to peek into the next room she saw Tora with her back pressed up against the breakfast bar, and Ryan standing too close and smirking down at her.

For a moment she thought the surge of nausea would overcome her, but then she noticed something. Tora wasn't unfurling, softening, smiling up into Ryan's face the way all those other women did – the way Kathryn herself did. She looked trapped, wary, even disgusted. She looked ready for a fight.

Kathryn cleared her throat deliberately, and by the time she'd entered the room Ryan had stepped smoothly away from her aide and was making his smiling way toward her. If it hadn't been for the residual relief on Tora's face, Kathryn might not have believed her own eyes. By the time Ryan took her hands, kissed her and began to shuffle her back into the bedroom she had almost forgotten the whole incident.

Sitting beside her husband in the president's private shuttle as they headed back to Earth, Chakotay's words kept echoing back to her: _When you're together, do you feel out of control?_

She'd been livid at the time – horrified and humiliated – but her compulsive reaction to Ryan's touch, even when she was so mad at him she didn't want him anywhere near her, could not be denied.

By the time they got back to San Francisco she was exhausted, demoralised and preoccupied with doubts about her marriage. Thinking back on the months since she'd met Ryan, she couldn't deny that the Kathryn Janeway who'd been caught up in a whirlwind romance and wooed into a hasty wedding was not someone she recognised. Isolated, overworked and struggling to cope with a life that wasn't her own, it was no wonder she'd rushed into the arms of the first person who'd seemed to genuinely care about her.

Chakotay was right: her life was out of control. And if he was right about that, maybe he was also right about the reasons why.

She chose her moment with care, waiting until they were seated in the middle of a restaurant and surrounded by people – somewhere he couldn't distract her with sex – before she sipped her wine and asked Ryan, "Tell me about your mother."

He paused in the act of chewing, then swallowed before replying. "I barely remember her. She died when I was young."

"On Vega Colony?" She watched him carefully. "What was her name?"

"Adria," he answered. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well, I know all about your father, but you never mention your mom. I'm just trying to get to know you better." She smiled at him. "You know all there is to know about me, after all."

"I doubt that," he replied, setting down his fork and fixing her with an even look. "I'm pretty sure there's a lot you haven't told me about your former first officer, for one thing."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "I just find it hard to believe that you lived and worked side by side for seven years and nothing ever came of it."

Kathryn gripped the edge of her chair, a sharp pain stabbing her temple. "We were best friends," she said harshly. "I'd hardly call that _nothing_."

"Uh-huh," he said. "And now you can't stand to be in the same room as him. What did he do to you, Kathryn?"

"He didn't do anything," she ground out. "We just … grew apart. Sometimes familiarity breeds contempt."

"So it had nothing to do with him taking up with that gorgeous young blonde?"

She flushed. "What are you implying?"

Ryan opened his mouth, apparently thought better of it and reached across the table for her hand. "Nothing, honey. It's just my jealousy talking again. I'm sorry, okay?"

He smoothed his thumb over her knuckles, and a familiar tingling warmth spread along her arm and throughout her body, easing the agony in her head. She found herself relaxing, smiling back at him. "Apology accepted."

"Good," he said and launched into a monologue about his upcoming meeting with the Federation president.

It was only when she was lying in bed later, tired and sated from the exceptionally enthusiastic lovemaking Ryan had initiated the moment they were inside their apartment, that she realised he had once again adeptly distracted her from finding out what she wanted to know.

===0===

~I have new orders for you,~ Jonah Miles announced over the comm. ~I assume you haven't been in contact with your sister on Trebus for some time?~

"Not since you sent me out here," Chakotay answered warily. "Why?"

~You're aware that Entera is in control of the dilithium mining operation on Trebus, of course. Your sister has apparently been lobbying for the Treban ruling council to close the mine.~

Chakotay swore softly. "I told Sekaya to stay out of it. Is she in danger?"

~Not if we play her interference to our advantage. I mentioned the last time we spoke that you needed a reason to insinuate yourself into Entera; well, here it is. You're to let it be known that you're willing to persuade Sekaya and the Treban ruling council to stand down in exchange for a portion of the profits from that mining operation, to be paid into your personal account.~

"You're serious." Chakotay stared at the man on the viewscreen. "Even if I could make Entera fall for that, I'd never persuade Sekaya to step back."

~It's your job to do both,~ Miles said flatly. ~Entera know you're with Intelligence, but up until now they haven't been sure you can be bought. You need to convince them that you can. And as for your sister, I'm sure you can explain to her that there's more at stake here than her little planet.~

"More at stake?" Chakotay rubbed his forehead. "The greater good of the Federation isn't an argument that holds much weight with Sekaya. Nor would it with you, if your home world had been caught in the middle of a territorial pissing content between the Federation and the Cardassians."

~Then tell her that if she persists in her attempts to close that mine, Entera will not take it lying down. The situation will escalate into violence. If she doesn't care about the Federation, tell her it's for the good of your tribe.~

===0===

"Admiral Janeway."

Kathryn's head shot up at the once-familiar voice of her former protégée. "Seven," she blurted, standing so quickly she almost tipped over the café table. "I've been … thinking about you."

It was true, in a way. She'd been thinking about Chakotay. This was nothing new, but he'd been particularly forefront in her thoughts of late, and thinking of Chakotay led naturally to thinking of Seven. She knew it was a vast oversimplification of reality, but she couldn't help the small, ugly part of her that believed Chakotay was no longer part of her life because of Seven.

 _And because I'm married_ , she reminded herself harshly. As regretful as she was becoming over her hasty marriage, she still owed Ryan her fidelity in thought as well as in deed.

Kathryn cleared her throat. "It's good to see you, Seven. Would you like to sit down?"

"Thank you." Seven slid into the chair opposite. "I'm glad to see you too, Admiral. And I'd like to offer my congratulations."

"What?"

Seven nodded toward Kathryn's wedding ring. "On your marriage to Councillor Austin."

"Oh." Kathryn tried a weak smile. "Well, thank you, Seven. And," she took in a breath, "I was sorry to hear that you and Chakotay aren't together anymore."

To her surprise, Seven's gaze slid to the table. "No, Admiral. I'm the one who's sorry." She raised her head and looked directly into Kathryn's eyes. "Had I known how you felt about each other, I would never have pursued him. Although I suppose it doesn't matter now." She glanced at the ring again.

"How we felt about each other?" Kathryn's fingers tightened around her coffee cup. "Seven, I hope you understand that Chakotay and I were never anything more than close friends…"

"I understand that Starfleet protocols discourage romantic and sexual relationships between officers in the direct command chain, Admiral, and that this was at least partly the reason you never pursued such an association on _Voyager_. My inexperience prevented me from understanding the depth of your feelings for each other until recently. I … apologise that my relationship with Captain Chakotay interfered with your opportunity to pursue those feelings once we arrived on Earth."

Kathryn stared into the remnants of her coffee. "You aren't to blame, Seven. Clearly it wasn't meant to be."

Seven bent forward, dipping her head to catch Kathryn's eye. "Are you happy?" she asked softly.

Her heart lodged somewhere in her throat. She couldn't push the words past it, even if she'd known what to say.

"Are you?" she asked instead.

"I am." Seven's lips turned upward at the corners. "It took commencing a relationship with Harry to clarify for me the difference between sexual attraction and love. With Chakotay, I was content, but something was missing. I know now what it was."

Kathryn looked up into Seven's wide, beautiful smile. "What was it?"

"Harry completes me," Seven explained. "I don't mean I'm less of a person without him. But he complements and challenges me. He listens to me and supports me, but he's never afraid to stand up to me. I miss him when he's absent, and I want to be physically close to him when he's present. And I trust him more than any other person alive. I believe this is the definition of love."

"That sounds …" Kathryn had to swallow twice before she could speak, "about right."

"Then you understand." Seven sounded relieved. "I'm glad you have found love, Admiral. You deserve to be happy."

Briefly touching Kathryn's hand, she stood, excusing herself and leaving Kathryn alone with her coffee and her migraine.

===0===

~I cannot believe what I'm hearing, brother.~

Sekaya's dark eyes were murderous, and Chakotay sighed; this was going about as well as he'd predicted. "Sekky, please. There's so much at stake here."

~Our _community_ is at stake!~ Sekaya exploded. ~These merchants want to steal our resources and drive us off our planet, just like the Cardassians. How can there be higher stakes than that?~

"Sekaya, do you trust me?"

She set her mouth in a mulish line.

"I need you to do this," he pleaded. "I promise you, I'll make it right. You just have to have faith in me."

She was silent for a long time, reading his steady gaze. ~I hope you know what you're doing, Amal,~ she said finally.

 _So do I_ , thought Chakotay. "Thank you, little sister."

Signing off, he placed an immediate call to Kash, the Trialan who'd become his key contact within Entera. "I've made the deal," he said without preamble. "You promised me four percent of the dilithium you mine from Trebus. I want it deposited into my personal account."

Kash's amber eyes refracted the light, making it hard to read her expression, but the low purr coming from her throat told Chakotay she was pleased. ~Consider it done, Captain,~ she approved. ~Come to Ajilon Prime on Stardate 56259. There's someone you should meet.~

This was his chance to penetrate the inner circle of Entera, Chakotay realised. "I'll be there."

His next communication was to Jonah Miles.

"I've been invited to the Ajilon system next week. Any idea what's going on?"

Miles steepled his hands in front of his mouth. ~President Zife has lined up a series of meetings with Chancellor Martok of Qo'noS. Martok is displeased by the re-arming of Starfleet patrols on the Klingon borders. We expect representatives from the Orions and most of the trade worlds at the conference. There aren't many independent worlds that welcome Starfleet's attempt to lock down the trade routes, and some of them wouldn't be too upset to see relations between the Federation and Qo'noS become strained.~

Chakotay sighed. "You know, when I signed up to Starfleet it never occurred to me that I'd end up tightrope-walking between political puppeteers and slumming with latinum-hungry thugs. What happened to peaceful exploration and the quest to better ourselves?"

Jonah Miles gave him an incredulous look. ~Peaceful exploration is the myth Starfleet sells its bright-eyed recruits to reel them in, Captain. And you are not naïve enough to believe that politics and latinum don't make the world go around.~

"You have no idea how deeply that depresses me, Agent Miles." Chakotay pressed the button that ended the comm call and sat back, wiping a hand over his face.

 _I can't do this much longer_.

He was so tired of lies, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt easy in his own skin. He longed for the company of someone he trusted implicitly, for small touches and easy silences. For lazy kisses and sunny mornings, and late nights wrapped up in the kind of intimacy that could only be forged by years of shared hopes and burdens.

It was unfortunate that the someone he longed for was never, and would never be, his.

===0===

Shivers prickled her skin, reaching into the depths of a languorous dream, and Kathryn sighed from under soft layers of sleep. A warm hand stroked over her abdomen and curved under her waist, and she tilted her hips, seeking the heat of the lips that trailed upward along the inside of her thigh.

"Kathryn," murmured a voice, and she mumbled a protest, her mind grasping for the remnants of her dream. There had been sunshine streaming through sheer drapes and a large, rumpled bed and the satiny play of muscles under golden skin, and she felt so safe and so wholly, tenderly loved…

Her body felt heavy, the hands and mouth that slid over her skin languid and slow. A tongue circled lazily around her hardened nub as a finger slipped an inch inside her. She moaned, and the sound of her own voice jolted her into awareness.

"I thought you'd never wake up," Ryan grinned as he dipped his head to taste her again.

"Ryan," she said, and stifled a groan as he swirled his expert tongue over her. She curled her fingers into his hair. "Ryan, stop."

"What for?" He moved her legs further apart. "You don't have to do anything. Just lie back and enjoy."

"No, it's not –" she caught her breath as he eased a second finger inside her, "I just don't want –"

"Shh." He reared up smoothly, his erection pressing between her legs as he leaned down to kiss her.

She pushed against his chest. "Ryan, come on. Let me up."

"I don't think you really mean that." He kissed her again, forestalling any further protests, and reached down to press his thumb to her clitoris.

Kathryn moaned into his mouth. Her body was thrumming, just as it always did for him, and she was fast forgetting why she'd objected in the first place.

"That's my girl," he murmured, and thrust inside her. She gasped and clung to him, nails digging into his shoulder as his hips drove him into her. "Tell me you want it."

"No, I –"

He took her nipple between his teeth and her back arched, her legs locking helplessly around him.

"Tell me," he growled, thrusting harder. "Tell me nobody ever fucked you like I do. Tell me you're mine."

"I – oh _God_!" she cried as he ground into her at that perfect angle and she came so hard stars burst behind her eyes.

He laughed in triumph and surged into her, his body holding itself rigid until, with a satisfied grunt, he collapsed on top of her.

As the stars receded and her sense of herself returned, Kathryn opened her eyes and heaved in a breath. She shoved at her husband's shoulder. "Ryan, you're squashing me."

He rolled obligingly to one side. "Told you you wanted it," he smirked, draping a possessive hand over her thigh.

Kathryn lay silent as his fingers traced lazily through their combined moisture. She started to tremble.

Ryan leaned up on one elbow. "More?" he grinned, his fingers moving with purpose.

She jerked away. "No."

He curled a hand around her hip, and she heaved herself off the bed.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

She grabbed for her robe, belting it tightly, and faced him. "I said _no_ , Ryan. I didn't want this."

A frown creased his forehead. "That's not what your body was saying."

"But it's what I was telling you!" The shakes were increasing and her breath was coming in shudders. "I said no, and you just – you ignored me. You don't have the right!"

"Kathryn –" He slid off the bed and took her hands, his face earnest. "I'm sorry, I honestly thought you –"

"Well, I didn't." She snatched her hands away. "I can't be around you right now. Just – get out," and she darted into the bathroom and closed the door firmly behind her.

Her head felt light, her fingers cold. She glanced at herself in the mirror and saw a tight mouth and wide, hurt eyes.

"Water shower," she managed, "hot," and as the spray jetted on obligingly, Kathryn sank onto the edge of the bathtub. She didn't realise she was crying until hot tears splashed onto the silk of her robe.


	10. Broke Down

I know it breaks your heart

Moved to the city in a broke down car and

Four years, no calls

Now you're looking pretty in a hotel bar and

I, I, I can't stop

The Chainsmokers ft Halsey, _Closer_

===0===

 _ **Chapter Nine: Broke Down**_

 _April, 2379_

Ryan left the apartment, as she'd asked him to, and Kathryn stood under the shower until her shakes died down to a fine tremor, then dressed and activated her personal transporter, materialising in the anteroom of her office at Starfleet Headquarters.

"Good morning, Admiral," Lieutenant Jens greeted her. "The conference on Ajilon Prime has been confirmed and President Zife has requested you attend. You'll be leaving at 1500 hours today."

It seemed to take a long time to process Jens' words. "I thought Admiral Kjogo was taking that conference," Kathryn said finally.

"She's coordinating the PR effort from Earth. The president is keen to smooth things over with the Klingons and he believes your presence at the conference will generate some positive publicity." Jens shrugged sympathetically. "Here's the travel itinerary."

She took the padd. "You're coming, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay, good." Kathryn stared unseeing at the padd. "Good." She rubbed her forehead with a hand that she noticed too late was trembling and curled her fingers into a fist at her side. "How long as this conference supposed to last?"

"Five days, with two days' travel time either side." Tora was watching her carefully. "I'm sorry you'll be away from your husband for so long, especially so soon after your wedding."

Incredibly, Kathryn felt laughter bubble up from deep inside her, barely stifling a burst of it by dropping the padd to clamp both hands over her mouth.

Jens looked alarmed. "Admiral, are you okay?"

She reached out to touch Kathryn on the shoulder – a warm, gentle clasp of her hand. Gradually, Kathryn's breathing slowed and her shakes eased away.

"I'm fine," she said eventually, and to her surprise she did feel clearer, more in control.

And she had nine days' reprieve to look forward to: nine days away from Earth, from Kjogo, from Ryan. Despite knowing she'd only be there as decoration, Kathryn felt light with relief.

"Tora, could you clear my schedule for the day? I need – I'd like some time to – Just tell anyone who calls that I'm not to be disturbed." She emphasised, "And I mean everyone, including my – including Councillor Austin."

"Of course, Admiral," Jens replied, blue eyes clouded with concern. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will."

Ryan would be at work, she reminded herself as she left her office. It was safe to go back to her apartment. She had to pack, and she should call her mother to let her know she'd be away, and that would be easier from her own home.

But the thought of walking through her own front door made her stomach roil. Instead, she stopped in at her favourite café for a coffee to go, and found herself wandering through the gardens behind it. This was where she'd last seen Chakotay. Where he'd told her Ryan was not who he claimed to be.

God, why hadn't she listened to him? No matter estranged they became, she had always known Chakotay would never lie to her. She'd trust him with her life.

She was overcome with a wave of longing to be near him, and before she'd fully intuited her intention she was almost running toward the Turner Building, where Starfleet Intelligence was housed. If she could just see him, talk to him, maybe he could help her make sense of all this …

His office was empty. Loitering in the hallway outside, Kathryn wondered what to do next.

"Kathryn?"

Her head jerked up. "Owen! I was just –"

"Looking for Chakotay?" Owen gave her an understanding smile. "He's out of the system. But since you're here, why don't you come into my office? I haven't seen you since before your wedding. You can fill me in on what you've been up to."

He put a hand under her elbow and she let him guide her into his corner office and onto a plush armchair. Handing her a cup of coffee, Owen settled himself opposite her.

"So," he said, watching her, "how's married life?"

"Fine," she said automatically.

Owen raised his eyebrows and she gave herself a mental shake.

"I'm just a little preoccupied. Sorry."

"Don't bullshit me, Katie." Owen laid a hand on her arm. "What's bothering you? Is it Ryan?"

She couldn't stifle a bitter laugh. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Try me."

But Kathryn was already regretting her outburst, and waved a hand dismissively. "It's nothing. Forget I mentioned it."

He sat back, observing her. "I've known you for a long time. If your instincts are telling you something, you should trust them. I've never known them to be wrong."

Kathryn sighed, slumping into her chair. "Maybe I'm just tired. I've been on this goddamned PR rollercoaster since _Voyager_ came home. I'm surrounded by strangers and people who want something from me and I've barely even seen my family and I … I miss my crew. I miss them." She leaned forward. "Tell me about Tom and B'Elanna, Owen. Tell me about Miral."

So he did. He told her about Tom's promotion to lieutenant commander and his job training elite piloting cadets. He told her about B'Elanna, leading the engineering team that had picked apart _Voyager'_ s adapted alien technology, and her new role designing enhanced warp engines for long-range vessels. He showed her holos of Miral, now a chubby, scowling fifteen-month-old who'd started taking apart replicators and waste reclamation units.

And Kathryn relaxed and laughed for what felt like the first time in years.

After their third cup of coffee, Owen's aide poked his head around the doorway. "Sir, you have a meeting in five minutes."

"God, what time is it?" Kathryn checked her chrono; it was noon. "I have to go or I'll be late for my transport. Thank you," and she stepped into her former mentor's arms for a hug. "You have no idea how badly I needed this."

"Any time." Owen hugged her back. "And if you don't mind a piece of advice from an old man – don't let anyone run your life anymore. I don't care if it's a fleet admiral, your husband or the president of the Federation. You need people around you that you can trust and depend on." He paused. "And dare I say it, I think you know who those people are. You came here looking for one of them."

===0===

From their first night at the Ajilon Prime conference, Tora Jens had demonstrated an impressive ability to charm the attending traders and diplomats, relieving Kathryn of much of the burden of her usual smile-and-flirt routine. Grateful, she was now taking advantage of the opportunity to fade into the background for a change.

Two seats down an Orion was holding a terse, low-voiced conversation with a Rigellian, and Kathryn leaned against the bar, sipping champagne and politely trying not to listen in. It was difficult; snatches of it kept floating through her preoccupation with the harsh words she and Ryan had exchanged over the comm when she was safely ensconced on the transport to Ajilon.

"… signed a treaty with Midrian. How will that impact on…"

 _We need to talk about this, Kathryn_. Ryan's eyes had been hard with anger.

 _What is there to talk about?_ she'd fired back. _You seem to have difficulty with the concept of consent_.

"… new trade route to the Cardassian Union. I hear Starfleet are…"

 _I've said I'm sorry_ , Ryan had sighed. _What more do you want from me?_

 _I need some time away from you_. Hurt had lodged hard in her throat. _If I can't trust you to respect me, I'm not sure I can stay married to you_.

"… the president. Martok demanded he pull back his border patrols…"

 _Don't say that_ , he'd pleaded, reaching for her image on the comm screen. _Kathryn, I love you_.

 _You picked a strange way to show it_. She'd shaken her head. _I need time, Ryan. At least give me that_.

"… new deal with Trans-Quadrant Express?"

Kathryn jerked into the present.

"So I heard," the Orion was saying. "Everyone wants to deal with TQE now. That pretty-boy CEO made a smart move, running for Federation Council."

The Rigellian snorted. "Doesn't matter. We control the Verex to Tomed run, and the Sona are in our pocket. TQE won't break into those sectors, no matter who's bankrolling them."

The Orion murmured something Kathryn didn't catch, and the pair of them moved away.

She stared unseeing into her glass. _Bankrolling them_? she wondered. Ryan had told her his company was partially funded by the Federation, but to her knowledge the Federation had no intention of taking over trade routes controlled by the Orions. And Ryan's company freighted medical supplies to planets in need. Why would they be expanding into the merchant routes?

Had he lied to her about the cargo he transported?

And if he'd lied about that, what else wasn't he telling her?

 _I think Ryan is half-Deltan, and he's using his genetic abilities to manipulate you._

Nausea gripped her stomach and she shoved her empty glass onto the bar and pushed through the crowd, riding the 'lift up to her hotel room. Stripping off her dress, she tugged on leggings and a long, loose shirt, sat cross-legged on the bed and fired up the portable console she'd brought with her.

"Computer, access Federation civilian database. Display all known records pertaining to Councillor Ryan Austin."

Thirty minutes later she got up and went to the replicator and ordered a double whiskey, which she drank in two gulps with shaking hands.

She supposed this was the information Chakotay had discovered. Unbelievable as it seemed in this day and age, the identity of Ryan's mother was a mystery. But given the high proportion of Deltans living on Vega Colony it wasn't a stretch to surmise that she had been, as Chakotay believed, Deltan.

Kathryn was well aware of the effect of unsuppressed Deltan pheromones on most humanoid species: addiction, susceptibility to mind-control, even insanity. But she had met Deltans before, even served with them. Most either took a benevolent approach to using their natural abilities and became healers – they could absorb and minimise pain – or chose to take an oath of celibacy to protect their crewmates and colleagues.

Some Deltans, though, chose a darker path. It happened rarely. But it did happen, and she was beginning to believe she'd had the terrible luck to marry one.

Almost equally disturbing was the discovery that theirs wasn't Ryan's first marriage, a fact he'd neglected to mention to her. She couldn't understand why he'd keep it a secret when she had been quite open with him about her own unfulfilled engagements to Justin and Mark.

How many secrets was he keeping from her?

She couldn't prove anything. It was all half-truths and implications, data missing or perhaps deliberately obscured. All she had was her instinct, and it was screaming at her that the man she'd married had been lying to her – and everyone else – about who he really was.

===0===

Chakotay tossed his tote bag on the hotel bed and stripped off the nondescript shirt and pants he'd donned for the shuttle ride to Ajilon, throwing them in the refresher. His uniform was stuffed into the bottom of the bag. He wouldn't be wearing it for the next few days; his Entera insider, Kash, had told him to dress inconspicuously. It wasn't as though Chakotay's allegiance was a secret to Kash's superiors, she'd said, but there was no need to draw attention to it.

Besides, the only Starfleet officers at this conference formed President Zife's personal contingent, and it was best if Chakotay avoided them. The fewer questions asked about his presence, the safer he'd be, Kash claimed.

Avoiding them didn't look like it would be a problem. Zife and his hangers-on were sticking to the opulent functions hosted in hotels around the centre of Ajilon City, and Kash had already informed Chakotay that the meeting she'd lined up with an Entera representative would be taking place in a less prominent location.

He ducked under the shower to scrub the travel grime away, towelled off and pulled on another unremarkable outfit of jeans, turtleneck sweater and a heavy overcoat against the outside chill. Kash would be stopping by any minute now to pick him up for the meeting she'd arranged. He wondered if this was it – his lucky break, his ticket to the upper echelons – or if he'd have to be satisfied with more mid-level lackeys.

===0===

Her console beeped, jarring Kathryn out of contemplating the bottom of her whiskey glass.

 _Incoming transmission from Fleet Admiral Nyla Kjogo_ , the computer informed her.

She'd avoided a couple of prime photo opportunities over the past few days, and she'd been expecting this call. Sighing, Kathryn drained her glass before switching on the viewer.

"What can I do for you, Admiral?"

~You can tell me what you're playing at, Kathryn. I thought I'd been clear about your purpose on Ajilon.~

"Dress like an expensive tart, flirt with important men and smile for the cameras," Kathryn answered flatly. "Yes, Admiral. You've made your orders perfectly clear."

Kjogo's eyes narrowed. ~I'm glad we understand each other. When do you plan to start holding up your end of the bargain instead of hiding in your hotel room?~

"Bargain." Kathryn snorted out a hollow laugh. "What bargain is that, Admiral? The one where you own me for the rest of my life? What is it that I get out of this bargain, exactly?"

Kjogo sat back. ~You're overwrought,~ she stated. ~Maybe I'm pushing you too hard. Why don't you take the night off? Get some sleep, and I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning. Have Jens book you into a spa for a couple of hours tomorrow.~

Kathryn eyed her suspiciously. "This is … unlike you, Admiral."

~You're in this for the long haul, Kathryn.~ Kjogo smiled. ~And neglecting your health isn't good for the baby.~

She almost dropped her glass. "What baby?"

~The one I'm counting on you to produce some time in the next year. Surely you see how good it'll be for your image.~

Kathryn gaped at her. "Admiral, I don't even know where to _start_ with that statement."

~Well, you're not getting any younger, so you'd better not waste any more time. I'm certain Councillor Austin agrees with me on this.~

She went rigid. "Oh, are you?"

~So he says.~

"When did he say that, exactly?"

Kjogo shrugged. ~At Councillor Betek's dinner last night. He mentioned how pleased he would be when you stopped your booster shots.~ Her eyes cut right and she nodded to someone Kathryn couldn't see. ~Duty calls. Get a good night's rest, Kathryn. I expect you on top form tomorrow.~

The screen blinked off.

Kathryn sat in trembling silence for a moment. Then she flung her empty glass at the wall and screamed.

The shattering of the glass kicked her shakes into high gear and she jagged to her feet, pacing her hotel room. The walls were closing in on her. She took a shuddering breath and forced her pulse to slow.

She had to get out of there. Shoving her feet into comfortable boots, she grabbed a hooded cloak from the closet, dropped a few credit chips into the pocket and strode out of the room, wishing she could slam the door behind her.

===0===

Chakotay ducked his head under the low mantel of the doorway and followed Kash into a dimly-lit room where the only sounds were the chink of gambling chips and the hushed murmur of conversation. He blinked against the gloom.

A bouncer gestured for him to remove his coat, and Chakotay held still while the man patted him and Kash down for weapons. At the bouncer's nod, Kash grabbed his elbow to lead him over to a table.

A Caitian sprawled in one of the hard-backed chairs, his long tail coiled over his arm. His felinoid eyes narrowed as Kash and Chakotay approached.

"So this is our tame Starfleet captain?"

Chakotay inclined his head. "Captain Chakotay. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The Caitian made a purring sound that Chakotay guessed was a laugh. "Sit down, Captain. Kash, fetch us a drink."

Chakotay eased into the chair opposite. He'd recognised the man instantly, but was unsure whether to let on until the Caitian inclined his head.

"You know who I am."

"Premier Sina of Regulus."

"I'd have been disappointed if you didn't recognise me."

Kash slid into a third chair, sloppily depositing a couple of glasses in front of them. Chakotay picked his up to study it. Romulan ale.

"I wasn't aware that Regulus was involved with Entera," he said, sipping cautiously.

Sina gave him a satisfied smile. "Then we're doing our job well. I expect you'd be surprised to discover the extent of our reach. But first things first."

He drained his ale and set down the glass, leaning in so close his tail brushed Chakotay's sweater. "You performed a favour for us by ensuring our continued access to the Treban dilithium mine," the Caitian said. "I'm aware you've been compensated, but I'm interested to know if you're prepared to offer us further favours. You'd be well-rewarded, of course."

"What kind of favours?"

Sina watched him closely. "We have a contact on one of the Starfleet patrols in the Borderlands. He's been quite useful to us in keeping Starfleet and the Orions away from our trade routes. Unfortunately, we're no longer certain he's trustworthy. A shipment of great value to us was recently lost en route from the Cardassian Union on his watch."

"I see. What is it you want from me?"

"We want you to observe him. Find out if he's playing both sides and report your findings to us. Nothing more, at this stage." The Caitian smiled. "Consider it a test of both your loyalty and his."

Chakotay nodded. "Shouldn't be too hard. What's his name?"

"It's not necessary to divulge that at this time. You'll be leaving Ajilon Prime tomorrow. In a few days you'll be provided with everything you need to know." He slid a couple of credit chips across the table. "Until then, enjoy the city with our compliments. Kash will introduce you to the charms of its nightlife."

It was clearly a dismissal, so Chakotay stood and said his goodbyes, then followed Kash out of the gambling hall.

"That went well," Kash offered, rubbing her hands.

"If you say so."

Kash shrugged. "He didn't shoot you on sight – I'd call that a success. Come on, let's get a drink."

===0===

Avoiding the glittering, gilded hotels and bars in the city centre, Kathryn trudged through streets and alleys until the low boom of music drew her to a dingily-lit doorway. She pushed open the door and squinted into the low light of the club. One glance at the clientele and the barely-clad Orion dancers wandering the room told her she was unlikely to run into any of the president's contingent in here, but still, she had no intention of being recognised. She kept her cloak on and her hood up as she took a seat at the bar.

"Yridian whiskey, straight up," she ordered, tossing a credit chip on the bar. "And keep them coming."

Getting drunk wasn't going to solve her problems, she decided midway through the second glass. And tonight it didn't seem to be numbing the pain either. She rested her elbow on the bar and dropped her head into her hand, eyes closed, letting the thumping beat of the music roll through her body.

 _How could I have mistaken this for love, or something close to it_? she wondered. Was she really so lonely that she'd allowed a sexual predator to charm his way into her life? To _marry_ her?

"… think that dancer likes you, Captain," uttered a low feminine voice beside her. "Fifty credits and you can take her home."

"She's not really my type," a man responded with a chuckle.

Kathryn's eyes shot open.

"Well if you're not interested, I am," the female said. "Our transport leaves at 0600. Don't be late."

The man leaned in beside Kathryn and motioned to the Andorian behind the bar. "Yridian whiskey," he ordered with a sigh.

The bartender raised an eyebrow. "Popular choice tonight."

Kathryn huddled into her cloak.

"Excuse me?" her neighbour asked.

The Andorian nodded in her direction. "You and the lady might as well share a bottle." He capped it and left it on the bar between them, turning away to serve another customer.

Kathryn squeezed her eyes shut, gathered her courage and pushed back her hood as she turned to Chakotay.

His eyes went wide.

"Don't say it," she joked feebly. "What's a nice girl like me doing in a place like this?"


	11. Hours of Moments

Still my heart this moment  
Or it might burst  
Could we stay right here  
Until the end of time until the earth stops turning

\- Lamb, _Gorecki_

===0===

 _ **Chapter Ten: Hours of Moments**_

 _April, 2379_

He tore his eyes from her to glance around fearfully, and the next thing she knew, he'd yanked the hood back over her head, grabbed her elbow and was hustling her out of the club.

"Chakotay, what the hell?" she hissed as they burst out onto the street.

"Kathryn, shut up. Just – shut up."

Suddenly she was furious. "I've had just about enough of people telling me what to do –"

" _Please_ ," he uttered through clenched teeth as he dragged her along the street and into a building. He keyed an access code into the elevator panel and pulled her into the lift.

"Where are we?" she demanded.

"This is my hotel."

She opened her mouth to verbally scour him and was halted – and infuriated – by a volley of sneezes. It silenced her until after the lift stopped and he tugged her into a short corridor, through a door and into a small room containing a single tiny couch and an oversized bed. Depositing her on the couch, Chakotay crouched in front of her, his eyes searching her face.

"Are you all right?"

Kathryn sneezed again and he handed her a tissue. "I must be allergic to something. Chakotay, what –"

"I wasn't talking about _that_ ," he growled. "I was talking about you drinking alone in the rough part of town."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding? I was perfectly fine until you decided to go all macho on me. What the hell is going on?"

He stood, yanking off his coat and tossing it over the back of the couch, glancing at her as he started to pace. "You could have been in danger. What were you doing in that place?"

"Danger? It was just a club, Chakotay. If you recall, I've been in far more dangerous places than that."

He huffed out a laugh. "Oh, I know. Your tendency to get yourself into dangerous situations is legendary. Seven years in the Delta quadrant apparently didn't teach you a thing about self-preservation."

Kathryn jumped to her feet, her hands taking up their familiar position on her hips. "Who do you think you are?"

Chakotay turned on her, hands gripping her shoulders, almost shouting into her face. "Who do I think I am? I'm the one who usually ended up coming to your rescue, hoping to God you'd still be in one piece when I got you back!"

The echo of his words died into the silent room as Kathryn stared at him, open-mouthed.

His hands dropped to his sides and he shut his eyes. "I'm sorry. That was way out of line."

She sank slowly to the couch and he slumped into the seat beside her.

"What are you doing here, Chakotay?" she asked. "On Ajilon, I mean."

"I'm..." He hesitated. "I'm on a mission."

"Doing what?"

"I can't tell you."

She watched him, gaze sharp. "Why not?"

"It's classified," he said, reluctant.

She raised an eyebrow. "I could order you to."

"No, Admiral," he said gently. "You couldn't."

"Because it's an Intelligence operation," she deduced. "And you're not in my chain of command."

"Right."

"Are you in danger?" Her voice was quiet.

He shrugged. "No more than usual."

She frowned, considering then discarding angles of attack that might trip him up, trick him into revealing more than he should. But her head ached so, and she couldn't seem to form a cohesive train of thought.

"What were you doing in that bar?" he asked quietly after a long, tense silence.

"I was…" To her dismay, her throat was closing up. "I just… had to get away."

"From what?" He was looking at her now, concern etched on his forehead.

"From everything," she swallowed against the thickness of tears. "I just needed – needed to b-breathe," and to her infinite horror, a sob burst out of her throat. She hid her face in her hands.

"Kathryn –" He touched her shoulder tentatively and she gritted her teeth, but it was no use. Her emotional fortifications crumbled into great, gulping sobs, and the next thing she knew, strong arms were around her and her face was pressed against his warm, solid chest.

===0===

She felt hot and prickly, even after tugging off her cloak and rolling up her shirtsleeves. It was partly the ambient temperature; the room's thermostat didn't appear to dip below twenty-six degrees Celsius and Chakotay had already pulled off his sweater, forcing Kathryn to avert her eyes from the sight of his broad chest in a white t-shirt. But mostly it was the shame of such an unguarded display of emotion. She had, it seemed, no defences anymore, and no way to control her own reaction to him.

To add to her mortification, she'd been unable to stop sneezing until he'd dialled up an antihistamine hypospray from the hotel replicator and applied it gently to her neck. Between her streaming nose and her tears, Kathryn didn't even want to imagine how pitiful she must appear.

"Thanks," she mumbled, subdued, as Chakotay passed her yet another tissue and a cup of coffee. She took a fortifying sip and placed it on the side table, forcing herself to add, "I'm sorry for subjecting you to my emotional breakdown."

"Kathryn." He looked at her so kindly she couldn't bear it and dropped her gaze again. He touched her knee with his fingertips. "You have nothing to apologise for. It seemed like that's been building up for a long time."

She stared down at his hand. "You have no idea."

"Really?" There was a gentle, lightly-amused lilt to his voice. "My guess is it's been coming for oh, around eight years now."

Kathryn huffed. "I always said you could've been a counsellor."

"I have my moments."

She shrugged a shoulder uncomfortably. "It was still embarrassing."

"Actually, I'm flattered."

She cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at him.

Chakotay picked up her hand, cradling it in his own. "It means you still trust me," he said, his voice soft. "You don't know how much that means to me, Kathryn."

She studied him. There was kindness in his eyes, affection, concern. But beneath those gentler, more predictable emotions she read something she hadn't seen for far too many years.

 _Or maybe_ , she thought as her heart kicked up and her lips parted on an indrawn breath, _I just haven't been looking_.

Almost of its own accord, her free hand lifted to trace the line of his jaw and she watched his eyes darken further. Her gaze dropped to his lips, and she brushed her thumb across them. The eloquent sound he made in response sparked a tense, blooming pulse deep inside her.

Without another thought, she closed the distance between them.

His lips were as soft as she'd always known they would be, and his sharp intake of breath dragged a moan up from her throat. She caught his lower lip between her own, running her tongue along it and nipping at it lightly. His lips were parted against hers, pliant, accepting as she sipped at them, as she licked into his mouth, but she could feel him holding back, his body rigid and tense as though he was afraid to move.

As though he was waiting for something; for her to come to her senses, maybe. Or for her permission.

That was it, Kathryn realised, the knowledge pushing a sweet ache into her throat. She wove her fingers into his and tugged gently to bring their joined hands up between their bodies, to cradle them against her chest. Her fingers fumbled to open the first button on her shirt and she pressed his hand flat over her heart, shuddering at the feel of his warm palm on her skin.

He exhaled shakily and she deepened the kiss, curling her free hand behind his neck to clasp him to her. She felt his other hand steal onto her hip, skimming lightly upward over her waist, felt the moment his passive endurance shifted and he began to respond, then take control. His mouth moved gently over hers. A tremor ran through her and she had to tip her head back to gasp in air. He took advantage of her exposed throat to trail kisses softly along it, humming in response to her low moan.

"Chakotay," she whispered, "I want you."

His hand, which had been tracing the span of her ribs, stilled, and he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers to catch his breath.

"We can't …" but his words were at odds with the way his gaze dropped to her lips, the way he cupped her face toward his.

She shifted back just enough to meet his eyes, opening hers to him and hiding nothing. "Yes, we can. Chakotay, I've waited so long…"

"Kathryn," he looked away, "you're married."

The laugh that burst out of her was half a sob. "You tried to tell me. I wouldn't listen, but you were right about him. He manipulated me and he used me, and our marriage is over." She brushed her lips against his. "I've always wanted this. Be with me."

"Are you sure?"

She heard the crack in his voice and knew with certainty that whatever he'd once felt for her, it hadn't faded. It was almost inconceivable that all those years of tension and disagreements, of denials and neglect, hadn't killed their feelings for each other.

"This is the only thing I'm sure of," she told him, and with shaking hands she unfastened the next button on her shirt, and then the next, until it slipped open and she let her hands fall loosely into her lap, her chest rising and falling quickly as she waited for whatever he did next.

He gave a quiet groan from behind clenched teeth. His stare was fixed on her body and his hand raised, hovering in mid-air. When he dragged his gaze up to hers, the heat in his eyes tightened her spine and set a pulse fluttering low in her belly.

"I really want to touch you," Chakotay said, gravel in his voice.

"So what are you waiting for?" she asked, breathless, and in one smooth movement he spread his hands around her waist, tugged her across his lap and took her mouth with a hunger that stole her breath.

 _Oh, God_ , was her only coherent thought as the hard press of him between her legs sent lust firing through every nerve in her body. Through their layers of clothing she felt him swelling, straining against her, felt the sharp answering throb that started her hands trembling and her body pressing helplessly closer.

This was nothing like the feverish, consuming need she felt with Ryan. This was overwhelming in an entirely different way, and she couldn't believe she had ever confused the two.

"Kathryn," he growled into her throat, and then he was standing and her legs were wrapping around his hips as he stumbled the few short steps to lay her on the bed.

She yanked at his t-shirt, almost tearing it in her need to get it over his head so she could press her lips to the hard golden chest she had touched so many times through the barrier of his uniform. He wrestled off her shirt and she arched to fumble with the clasp of her bra, his hot mouth closing over her nipple as soon as she was bared to him. Boots were kicked away, pants and underwear toed downward, and then they were both naked and she couldn't stifle the hitch in her throat as he moved between her opened thighs. She was liquid, molten with urgency and need, and as he began to kiss his way down her belly she shook her head in desperation.

"Now, Chakotay," she rasped. "I need you _now_."

The involuntary tilt of her hips as he raised himself above her, his eyes searching hers, seemed to be all the confirmation he needed. Slowly, so slowly, he pushed inside her. She felt the stretch and throb of her inner muscles as he pressed his forehead to hers, gritting his teeth against his precarious control.

"Please," she almost whimpered, writhing against him mindlessly as he drew back. He surged into her, wringing soft, drawn-out cries from her lips as she squeezed around him. With each outward slide and inward thrust she held him to her tighter, clutched him inside her, wrapped herself around him, imagining she'd never have to let him go. He raised himself on his forearms to watch her face as he ground into her, and Kathryn felt the flush bloom on her chest. She threw her head back, crying out as her body clenched and shook, bringing him over the edge with her into an oblivion from which she never wanted to return.

===0===

When their breathing finally slowed she pulled him down and wrapped her arms around him. Tears brimmed from under her closed lids and he felt them dampen his cheek where it pressed against hers.

"What's wrong?" Alarmed, Chakotay propped himself on his elbows, eyes searching her face. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," she half-laughed. "It was wonderful. _You_ were wonderful."

"Then why are you crying?" He brushed a thumb gently beneath her eye.

"Because I always knew it would be like this."

He felt an answering smile soften his face. "So did I."

He couldn't stop gazing at her. Fantasies of how she would look in this moment, of how he'd feel, had fuelled his imagination for years. And now here she was, her slender frame secure in his arms, her bare skin flush against his, her mouth soft from his kisses. He didn't quite know how or why they'd ended up here, now of all times. But as he looked at her, drank her in, catalogued the strength of her arms around him, the feel of her soft breasts and her impossibly velvety skin, the inevitable, inescapable rightness of it settled into his bones and infused his every nerve and sinew with joy.

It seemed Kathryn was experiencing the same thing. She reached up to trace his jaw, a slow smile blossoming on her lips as he nuzzled his mouth into her palm. He felt her catch her breath at the sensation of his teeth scraping lightly on the heel of her hand, and his eyes sharpened, focused on hers. He shifted, and twitched inside her, swelling further as she gasped and arched her back.

Her tears were forgotten now, her eyes sliding shut as he dipped his head, his lips moving lightly over her throat and drifting downward to close around one nipple. The heat and pull of his mouth made her squirm and moan. He was almost fully hard again. He gave a slow, experimental thrust and she twined her legs around his hips and clutched his shoulders, the sharp bite of her nails bringing him to full swell.

It would be so easy just to let it happen.

Chakotay lifted his head. "Kathryn," he said, and waited until she opened her eyes.

"What is it?"

"Can we talk now?"

Tension crept back into her limbs. She pulled away, sitting up to clutch the sheet to her chest. She looked shame-faced.

"What you must think of me," she mumbled.

"Don't do that," he said quietly. "Kathryn, I meant it when I said I'd always be here for you."

She managed a rueful smile. "Somehow I doubt this was what you had in mind."

Chakotay ducked his head to hide the appearance of his dimples. "I've had _this_ in mind for going on eight years," he confessed, and glanced up at her.

To his relief, her lips twitched and the stiffness melted from her body. "Me, too."

He felt his eyes soften as he looked at her.

"I can't believe we finally did it," she said, half to herself.

"It was worth the wait."

Kathryn glanced away, her smile fading. "Worth the wait," she echoed. "Sometimes I can't even remember what I was waiting for."

Chakotay hesitated, unsure what to say. "You made the best decisions you could at the time," he finally settled on.

"I was arrogant," she replied, meeting his gaze. "I made decisions for both of us and I never even talked to you about it."

"It's okay," his voice was soft, "I understood. The ship came first. You were doing your duty."

She huffed without humour. "I was scared, Chakotay."

"I know."

"You weren't." Kathryn almost sounded accusing. "You always seemed so centred. So certain."

He gave a disbelieving laugh. "Is that what you thought? I was terrified, Kathryn. You turned my life inside out," he shook his head as she curled into herself, "and I'm not talking about destroying the Array. I'm talking about _you_."

Her fingers worried at the sheet. "And Seven?" she asked harshly. "How did that come about?"

Chakotay sighed. "Seven and I … we were each of us searching for something, and we fulfilled that for each other for a while. Looking back, it never would've lasted."

"Don't be so sure of that."

"I know what she said, that future version of you," he said firmly. "Whatever happened in her timeline, it's never going to happen now. Seven is happier with Harry than she ever would have been with me. And I'm so sorry that we hurt you… that I hurt you."

"It's no worse than I deserved," she half-whispered. "Sometimes I think it would be better if you had never met me."

"Don't ever think that." Her entire body was written in lines of defeat and Chakotay couldn't stand it. "You once said you couldn't imagine a day without me. Well, I can't imagine my life without having known you."

She made a sound that was part laugh and part sob, but the despair began to ease from her limbs and she scrubbed at her face with the heel of her hand. He wanted to pull her close, to kiss her again, but he suspected he knew where that would lead and there were things he needed to know first.

"You said your marriage is over," he reminded her. "What did you mean?"

Kathryn drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, tear-dampened eyes cast downward. "Let's just say I no longer have any illusions that Ryan ever loved me."

Chakotay reached out tentatively and she let him take her hand.

"You were right all along," she said. "He used me to leverage his election campaign. He never cared about me. He – he manipulated me, and he tricked me into … And when I tried to resist, he –" She broke off abruptly.

"He what?" There was a hollow feeling in his stomach. "What did he do, Kathryn?"

"He did what he wanted," she said tiredly, "in spite of my objections."

"He forced you?"

"Not in his mind." She hunched her shoulders. "I said I didn't want it – I said no, more than once, but … my body responded to him. And for him, that was enough."

"Kathryn," he said, the ache turning his voice to gravel, and her face crumpled and she hid it in her folded arms.

Chakotay squeezed her hand gently. He could hear the hitch in her breathing that told him she was struggling for control and he longed to put his arms around her. But considering what she'd just told him, that had to be her choice.

"I don't know what to do," she said, muffled. "I just feel so _stupid_."

He frowned, choosing his words carefully. "It's not my place to tell you what to do, but you don't deserve to be treated that way. Nobody does."

Her body stiffened and she pulled her hand back from his. "You're right. It's not your place."

To hell with caution. "Please tell me you're not considering going back to him."

Her retort, when it came, was sharp with a hurt he didn't quite comprehend. "I suppose that's my decision to make, isn't it?"

"Kathryn…"

"It's not like you're going to be around, anyway," she went on, and pressed her lips together, not quite hiding the quaver in her voice.

Understanding dawned, and with it came helplessness. _I'll save you_ , he longed to promise her, _I'll take you away where he'll never find you_ , but he bit his tongue. She was right; duty meant that was not a vow he could make to her.

"You don't have to do this alone, Kathryn," he said instead.

"Of course I do," she answered so tonelessly it made him ache. "I'm always alone."

"Kathryn…"

"No. It's fine, Chakotay, really." She lifted her chin to look at him directly, her eyes dry and cool. "You don't have to comfort me. I can take care of myself."

"This is different," he said flatly.

"Like you said," she replied, "it's not your place to tell me what to do. You're not serving on my ship. You don't owe me anything."

He stared at her. "This has nothing to do with the chain of command. You're my _friend_."

"Your friend," she repeated blankly, then laughed. "Is that what I am?"

"What are you talking about?"

"No," she said tightly, "what are _you_ talking about? You don't have the right to decide how I should live my life." Her voice was rising with every word. "We're not friends, _Captain_. We're just two strangers who had sex!"

He could see her breathing rapidly as the echoes of her accusation died away in the silent room. And he wanted nothing more than to protest, to deny what she'd said, to insist that they were closer than friends – closer even than lovers – and would always be so.

He couldn't.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

He held out his hand, palm up, and after a moment her shoulders loosened and she sighed, her fingers curling around his. Her head was bowed but he could see her biting her lip.

"I had no right to do anything I've done with you tonight," he hesitated, and honesty prompted him to continue, "but I can't regret this. I just wish …"

"What?" she asked, and there was no anger left in her voice.

"I wish our timing was better," he tried to smile.

"Me too," she managed. "Chakotay, I'm sorry… I didn't mean…"

"I know," he murmured. "I'm just – I'd really like to hug you right now. Would that be okay?"

She glanced down at herself, naked beneath the sheet. "Do you really have to ask?"

"Yes," he answered seriously.

Her smile wobbled and warmed. "In that case, yes. I would love you to hug me."

So he reached for her, folding her in his arms and pressing his cheek to her hair, and gradually he felt her weight settling against him and the soft brush of her breath on his neck. He spread his hands across her back and she hummed quietly at the drifting of his fingertips along her spine.

Soon, he began to press small kisses to her temple and cheekbone, and Kathryn's breathing quickened as she shifted in his arms, pressing restlessly closer to him. The sheet caught between them slipped lower.

"Chakotay," she murmured.

He shivered at the sensation of her lips moving against his throat. "Yes, Kathryn?"

"Are we done talking?"

Something in the timbre of her voice brought him to instant attention. He pulled back to study her and read the lowered eyelashes, the flushed and parted lips, felt his body respond.

"What did you have in mind?" he rumbled back at her.

In answer she pushed the sheet aside and lowered herself over him, the hard points of her nipples brushing his bare chest. Her teeth closed carefully around his earlobe and she pitched her voice low and husky.

"I was thinking about making the most of the time we have."

His better nature raised a weak protest, but as she curled her tongue around his ear, any misgivings he might have voiced levelled off into a groan. Kathryn took advantage of his distraction to brace her hands on his shoulders, pushing him onto his back. He found his fingers clasping her hips, and she levered upright, her eyes glittering as she squeezed her thighs around him.

He was fully erect now. Chakotay tightened his fingers on the curves of her ass, encouraging her, unable to stifle the low sounds of pleasure she was pulling from his throat as she began to move over him. He felt her shudder as the head of his penis rubbed over her clit, and then she was twisting her pelvis and he slid inside her in one long, slick, heated plunge.

Her hips circled in deliberate, luscious thrusts, her body clenching and rippling around him. Chakotay stared up at her, watching her face as her pace increased and her breath began to hitch, watching her eyes darken and her tongue dart out to moisten her lips.

He ground his hips up into her, one hand travelling up the length of her torso to cup her breast, revelling in the way she shivered and moaned.

"You are so beautiful," he rasped.

Kathryn's eyes softened and he reached up to pull her down onto him. Her hair fell around them as he crushed her to his chest, his lips seeking hers. He kissed her, tangling his hand in her hair as her motions slowed, grew sinuous. The change in angle, the friction, the lush drag of her tongue against his; it was all he could do to hold back the climax he knew was inevitable.

But he wanted to get her there first.

Gently, he urged her to release him, to move upward along his body until her thighs were spread either side of his face. She gripped the headboard and stared down at him, her expression anticipatory and ever so slightly tense, and he stroked a palm lightly over her hip, his thumbs rubbing the delicate, concave curves of her pelvis.

 _Trust me_ , he tried to convey with his eyes, and she bit her lip and nodded, so he turned his head and nuzzled the silky skin inside her thigh. Kathryn made a soft, needy sound and widened her knees, and in gratitude and approval he dragged his thumb across her nub, watching her mouth drop open and her head fall back.

"Fuck," he groaned, "I want to taste you."

She moaned and tilted her hips, and he slid his fingers between her folds, his other hand flattening on her ass to bring her to his lips. At the first languid circle of his tongue on her clitoris he entered her with two careful fingers, and she whined and shuddered and pushed herself onto his face.

He flattened his tongue on her, licking her deliberately, thoroughly, holding her steady with one hand on her hip as the other curled upward inside of her, rubbing the rippled patch of flesh that changed the pitch of her moans to short, gasping cries, until she half-sobbed a broken version of his name and crumpled over him, trembling and clenching around his fingers.

He could have stayed there all night, drowning in her, moving his fingers and tongue ever so slightly to trigger the aftershocks, but she had other ideas. Heaving in a breath, she eased herself to one side of him, her mouth finding his for a deep and lazy kiss that left him licking her taste from her lips.

Kathryn drew back, one hand flattening on his torso and snaking downward until it came in contact with his cock, so hard it throbbed almost painfully.

"Kathryn," he groaned as she wrapped her fingers around him.

She shifted onto her knees, holding his gaze as she twisted her body to bend her face down to him, As Chakotay's hand drifted along her spine to dip and clutch between her spread legs, she licked her lips deliberately.

The sound he uttered was unintelligible, but she needed no help understanding it. She stretched her lips around his cock and sank down with purpose until her tongue was flattened along his length and he could feel her throat working, feel the vibrations as she hummed around him.

For a moment he almost lost control. This was Kathryn, _Kathryn Janeway_ , naked in his bed with his fingers inside her and her mouth wrapped around his cock. His free hand curled convulsively into the sheet beside him, an aid to maintaining the presence of mind not to thrust into her throat and choke her, not to let go and flood her. Not to end it too soon.

Then she began to move, sucking, tongue swirling, one hand slipping between his legs to cradle his balls, and Chakotay, losing the battle, gritted his teeth and begged, "Please, Kathryn, please come here. I need to be inside you."

He stroked the hair back from her face and she raised her head, gasping as he pulled out of her throat. Her lips were wet. She turned her cheek into his palm, her eyes heavy-lidded, and bit gently at the edge of his thumb.

"Do you want to fuck me?" she whispered.

Chakotay sucked in a breath. Cupping her face, tilting it toward him, he sat up until he could press his lips to hers. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers and said with quiet emphasis, "I want to make love with you."

He thought he saw her eyes fill again before she closed them and leaned in to kiss him, and he wondered briefly if she'd become used to her husband treating her without tenderness. The thought made his throat ache and he almost stopped her, afraid that he'd misread her needs tonight. What if she hadn't been seeking solace, but a friend?

But she broke the kiss only to murmur, "I want that, too," and then she shifted under him and pulled him to cover her, wrapping her arms and legs around him and urging him to enter her, and it was so easy and so perfect and so right, and he lost himself inside her, willingly giving her whatever tiny part of his soul she hadn't owned before.

Afterward, she turned over in his arms and he wrapped himself around her and traced the line of her arm and waist and hip with the tips of his fingers. Her breathing evened out and her lashes fluttered closed, but Chakotay stayed awake, watching her sleep.

And for a few hours' worth of moments, everything was perfect.


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If you're subscribed to D _esperate Measures_ but haven't seen the little hissyfit on my profile,

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End file.
